Onto Greener Pastures and Brighter Skies
by Trinity103
Summary: Harry Potter has done it: he has defeated the Dark Lord. Yet this victory has come at a great price: namely, the eradication of the entire human race. Wizards, muggles, and creatures alike perished and now Harry is alone left, cursed with the title of the Master of Death and an extended life. So, Harry does what any wizard with too much time would: he goes "traveling".
1. The Traveler's Guide

Disclaimer: As J. K. Rowling is an awesome pen name and includes no miscellaneous numbers, it should be obvious that she is the true author of Harry Potter, and I own naught but my own thoughts and the twelfth "the" in this story. Oh, and I also don't own Lord of the Rings, or any other movie/book/TV series one of the characters may happen to reference.

Warning: Pay no attention to the title. I haven't the faintest clue as to where I am going with this, but as the first chapter has demonstrated to me, this won't be a serendipitous story in any way, unless I am bitten by Tinkerbell and develop spastic bursts of uncontrollable, potentially hazardous glee. If that is the case, my account shall be put on hiatus until such a time that my quest for revenge is acquitted and I am properly restored. Thank you.

Note: As this is my first story, I welcome constructive criticism, ideas for future chapters, and helpful pointers to any errors in context or grammar I have made. If you have any rude, vulgar, or pointless comments that will contribute absolutely nothing to anything anywhere that you feel the need to vent, I would humbly suggest that you purchase a diary to express your feeling to. Maybe one day it will capture a part of your soul and possess a young girl in order to go on a killing spree via giant snake. I've heard it happen.

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><p>Chapter 1: The Traveler's Guide<p>

Harry sat on the ledge of Gryffindor Tower, intently studying his thumbs as they slowly circled one another, sizing their opponent up, searching for the twitch that would begin their battle to the death. The air was still, dust particles hanging in place, unwilling to interrupt the tense atmosphere of the oncoming duel. Wait! There it is! And here we go-

Heaving out a sign, Harry flopped down on his back, flinging his arms over his eyes. At first his inner banter was a fun distraction from his situation, but now it was getting tedious and just a tad bit pathetic. Although, now that all the bodies had been buried (the Death Eaters were all burned with a convenient _fiendfyre, _and Lord Voldey had a special little memorial as the carnivorous-charmed Cornish Pixies devoured his flesh) and Hogwarts had been fixed up, there wasn't much else to do other than twiddle one's thumbs as suicidal thoughts ran their creative course through one's mind.

Ever since the battle at Hogwarts took place, the war had been going downhill for the light side. Harry had been able to fire a severing hex at Voldemort's head, but with Nagini, the final horocrux, still alive, the Dark Lord was able to apparate away and the battle ended as a destructive draw. The single battle had been nearly as devastating as the entirety of the first war against Voldemort. Many great wizards were lost, including Remus Lupin, Harry's last friendly tie to his parents, Remus's wife, Tonks, and George's twin, Fred.

Anyone who openly opposed the Dark Lord was targeted, along with their families, and with their supporters dropping like flies, the Order of the Phoenix was experiencing a severe drop in moral. The light side's reluctance to kill led to ten Death Eaters being broken out of Azkaban for every one the Aurors captured, while dozens of light wizards were murdered in battle, their families killed in raids. Without Dumbledore to lead them, the light side looked to their last beacon of hope: a seventeen year old boy, busy grieving his own losses.

It wasn't until the death of one of Harry's closest friends, Hermione Granger, that he snapped out of his own head and decided to end the war at any cost. The sight of his best friend, the smartest witch in her year at Hogwarts, the epitome of grace and intelligence, lying on a cot in the Hospital Wing, minus two limbs and a heartbeat, gave Harry the perspective he needed to become serious.

He, Ron and Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood began training with the best Aurors left, including Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Harry started to read the numerous books in the Black Library, given to him by his godfather, Sirius Black, in his will. Harry even briefly traveled to Japan to be taught by a master swordsman, Sensei Kenshi, determined to fully prepare himself before facing Voldemort again.

He returned to an Order half the size that he had left it.

Inevitably, the wizards' fighting leaked into the muggle world, and the left over cold war paranoia led to the realization of MAD. The United States and Russia managed to blow the world up, with only the pockets of protected wizard society remaining untouched, but not unaffected. The surviving wizards, realizing too late the immense power of muggles, flocked to the light side, seeking a nonexistent undo button. The Dark Lord, left with only his snake and a rat, was practically defenseless in the Malfoy Manor, and it was far too easy for Harry to put a bullet in between the eyes of the mad man who had caused the literal end of the world.

The death of the world caused the magic to drain out of the environment and the remaining wizards, leading them to a slow, painful demise. All, of course, except The Boy-Who-Lived. All of Harry's friends besides Luna had been out in muggle society, trying to defend the civilians against the pillaging Death Eaters when the atomic bombs had detonated, sweeping the wizards away with their fiery waves along with the billions of others taken. Only Harry remained, nursing the last of the survivors as the life was ripped from their bodies, cursing Voldemort for shooting an Avada Kedavra at him, and himself for having all three of the Deathly Hallows on him at the time. Evidently, the objects were not just a children's story to warn against foolish greed. Dying in the possession of the Deathly Hallows truly did grant the holder the title of the Master of Death, along with the immortality that comes with such a hefty title.

_And to think, _Harry thought, a bitter smile twisting his lips, _the one thing that Voldemort feared, Death, could have granted him his one wish._ Harry sighed as he got up, removing his arms from their iron grip around his head. Instead, the stupid git had to give his dream to his enemy, possibly the only person who truly abhorred the thought of never being able to die, to forever be denied to chance to see his parents in the afterlife. _Oh well._

Harry flipped up from his position, abandoning his useless thoughts of taking a flying leap, knowing from experience that it was a futile endeavor. Swiftly walking down the corridors to the Headmaster's office, Harry pointedly avoided looking at the Hospital Wing, Luna's death only two weeks ago still too fresh in his mind. The loss of the last living human on the planet had hit him even harder than he thought it would have, considering Luna had held on for thirty two years after the destruction, twenty five years longer than anyone else, just to "help keep the nargles away", according to her. She had kept Harry sane, brightening his day with her wondrous fairytales and even playing Quidditch with him, despite her lack of interest in the game. Sometimes they would just fly together, leaving their troubles hundreds of feet below. Even when she became too weak to leave her bed, Luna still took care of him; together they doodled in muggle children's coloring books and sang nursery rhymes to pass the time.

A smile ghosted over Harry's face at the memory, his eyes briefly flashing in amusement before he refocused, briskening his walk. Harry bypassed the silent gargoyles standing guard before the Headmaster's old office. Harry had done his best to reconstruct the castle to how it was before it had been demolished in the Battle of Hogwarts, but the magic had long ago left the ancient stone walls. The stair cases no long shifted according to their fancy, the ceiling of the Great Hall lost its enchantment to appear as the night sky, and the paintings had ceased to move and talk, the spirits of the portrayed wizards extinguished along with everything else.

Once he reached the dusty room, Harry abruptly stopped. With a quick flick of the Elder Wand, the grand office was restored to its former glory, Dumbledore's knickknacks twinkling on the shelves in resemblance to the late Headmaster's eyes.

"Kreacher!" Harry barked out sharply. Out of all of the brave house elves that died in battle along with their masters, the miserable elf of the Black family was the only to survive due to his tie to Harry. He had considered breaking their bond and allowing the creature to join his precious mistress in the afterlife, but Harry couldn't bring himself to get rid of the last source of company he had, no matter how unpleasant. Although, soon that would no longer be an issue.

Years ago, when Harry had been going through the Headmaster's office, which was the last room he had repaired due to the memories it held of his beloved departed mentor, he had stumbled upon an old book titled _The Traveler's Guide: A Getaway For The Terminally Bored Witch Or Wizard_.

On the first page, an incantation was written that would apparently transport the caster to another world, though its name wasn't mentioned anywhere. The book held several maps, journal entries of previous users (including Dumbledore himself) a list of the various creatures inhabiting the planet (he would have to avoid the goblins; they were evidently even more nasty than in his world), and even a dictionary of the most widely spoken languages.

Kreacher popped beside Harry, the ever present grimace deepening on his face at the sight of his half-blood master. "Yes, _Sir_," the house elf spat out.

Harry ignored the nasty attitude. "I need you to bring me my trunk." He had packed all of his belongings (his battle armor, the shards of his old wand, his parent's photo album, the Sword of Gryffindor, a modified golden snitch, and a picture of him and Dumbledore's Army from sixth year) the day after Luna's death and had only been waiting to gather the courage to leave his one true home, Hogwarts.

As soon as Kreacher returned, Harry grabbed his trunk, set it down by his feet, and turned to face the miserable house elf.

"Kreacher, as your master and the last head of the most Ancient and Noble House of Black, I officially release you from all of your duties to the family and myself." Harry pulled out an old shirt from the folds of the Invisibility Cloak draped over his shoulders and presented it to the elf.

Fingers trembling, Kreacher took the piece of clothing. With watery eyes, he slowly lifted his head and gave a shocked Harry a watery smile.

"Thank you," Kreacher whispered. His body began glowing as the bond disintegrated between the elf and the wizard. Without a source of magic to keep him alive, Kreacher fell to the ground, his gray skin losing its last hue of life.

Harry sighed. While he despised the creature most of the time, Kreacher had been there for him when Luna died, standing ramrod straight next to him on the side of her death bed, even offering Harry a handkerchief once he pulled himself together somewhat. The little being's passing was sad, but it comforted Harry to know that Kreacher would be happy to reunite with the pureblood family he had served for so long.

With one last look around the room that had been a safe haven to him as a young boy, Harry took a deep breath and picked up the traveler's guide from the impressive desk overlooking the rest of the space. He sat down on his trunk and flipped the cover open.

"De veteribus et novis praeterita mundi morosa lucida mundi futura, est in potentia ad relaxat enim a tempus. Et forte in meliorem vitam, si invitus, nolo revertere, et habita in solem*." Harry chanted the spell, words rolling off his tongue with ease due to the hundreds of times he had practiced them. With his infamous luck, he thought it was likely that he would mispronounce a word and be sent to a planet full Dementors in the middle of national orgy day if he didn't memorize it beforehand.

A shiny white mist with all of the colors of the rainbow sparkling within it formed around Harry, and he quickly shot up and gripped the handle of his truck, nearly dropping the book in the process. He prayed that everything came with him; the book mentioned nothing of the previous users arriving with nothing on them, but then again, showing up buck naked in an unknown place wasn't exactly something the five powerful wizards who had used the spell before would admit to.

Closing his eyes, Harry smiled widely as the magic wrapped around him, eager to start his next great adventure.

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><p>*End Chapter Note: The Latin spell roughly translates to "Of old world's morose past and new world's bright future, the potential to relax for a time has come. A chance at a better life, if by choice, I choose not to return, and stay in this new sun." It is a random stretched rhyme that I thought up typed and into Google Translate. Hope you weren't expecting some deep message or anything .<p> 


	2. Magical Miscalculations

Author's Note: Alright, don't expect such speedy updates all of the time. I currently have an annoying plot bunny that keeps trying to bite through my shoes whenever I think of anything besides this story. The Idea Dam has been broken, all beware. Plus, all of your reviews and favorites inspired me quite a bit. Thanks for your support, I will try not to disappoint.

Also, potterfanforever, while Harry could have brought the entire Hogwarts library with him (it would have especially helped him in this chapter), he is trying to make a new life; this isn't really a vacation for him, as there isn't anything for him to return to (tied that plot point up nicely didn't I; sorry for the mass genocide). Plus, I didn't think of it at the time, but details, details.

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><p>Chapter 2: Magical Miscalculations<p>

Harry snuggled down into his arms, enjoying his reclined position as the warmth from the sun was tempered by a soft breeze. The comforting noises of a forest surrounded him and Harry knew that once he got up he would need to help Ron and Hermione pack up their camping gear so that they could continue their quest for the Horocruxes. Determined to seize as much time as he could before his friends woke up, Harry sent out a light wave of magic to make them rest a bit longer.

"Chirp, chirp, chiii-ck!" Harry shot up at the screech before crouching close to the ground, whipping out the Elder Wand on instinct. He swept his gaze over his surroundings, feeling a sharp pang in his chest as the last few decades made their presence known in his mind. Harry was no longer a sixteen year old boy on an adventure with his friends, no matter how little he had aged to prove it. He was now a stranger in a very, very strange land.

The forest surrounding Harry was vastly different from any nature found in the UK. The trees seemed skyscraper high and the undergrowth was so dense that it would be near impossible to try and venture away from the cleared paths designated by trodden-on dirt. The canopies of leaves provided a gloomy atmosphere, which was only accented by the silence not usually observed in natural settings.

Harry shivered slightly. Something felt off about this place; this feeling was similar to the one he got whenever he took the first few steps into the Forbidden Forest. The air felt thicker, though breathing had never seemed so effortless. It was as if his lungs were accepting the air of this new world more readily than that of his own. The thought was slightly disturbing.

Turing to the source of the disturbance that had woken him, Harry tilted his head in puzzlement. The raven on the ground looked as though it had been hit by a _stupefy_, lying in a slightly warped position underneath the tree that it must have fallen from. Harry frowned. He had never been very good at wandless magic, and had only ever managed to slightly influence the feelings of those around him with nonverbal spells, even after he had mastered the Hollows. Pointing his wand at the bird, Harry murmured "_Rennervate_."

A blast of black light shot out of the Elder Wand, pushing Harry back as he fell with a yep onto the grass. The bird suddenly shot up, whirling madly, right into the wrong end of a low hanging branch it must have been previously occupying. Harry gaped in horror at the poor animal, before turning his twitching gaze to the intricately carved stick resting innocently in his hands.

Dropping the wand as if it had turned into a boggart, Harry frantically looked around him for the Traveler's Guide, diving for it a meter away near a stream. Lying on his stomach, Harry tore at the clasp of the brown leather book and frantically flipped through the pages. He faintly remembered reading something about increased magical potential in one of the journal entries, but he had been more concerned with learning the languages and studying the various creatures of the world rather than reading the ramblings of crazy old wizards.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_, Harry berated himself. The facts were always useful to know and he was sure that his language skills would be put to the test soon enough, but firsthand experience by others in his same position was invaluable and the entries deserved to be more closely inspected.

Harry sighed in relief once he found the page he was looking for. He absent mindedly reached up to adjust the round glasses that no longer resided on his nose and began reading, skimming through the paragraphs to find the answers he sought.

_**Date: the air tastes like a Tuesday**_

_** It has been about three weeks since I have arrived in this new world and I am sorry to report that the trees are just as standoffish as they were back at home….. didn't even say thanks when I shooed away a ladybug looking to nibble at her fine leaves… all the water tastes like salmon….. mentioned something about a "One Ring"…. My magic has been acting odd…..**_

"Aha!" Harry yelled, pounding the ground in triumph. He focused on the section in the middle of the page, squinting as he tried to read the wizard's scribbled handwriting.

_**My magic has been acting odd, doing things without my express permission, and all of my spells seem to be amplified. I used a modified version of aqua eructo to fill my cup with water, and ended by nearly drowning in the waterfall that subsequently appeared. I cast a simple accio to retrieve my bag, and it bludgeoned me in the stomach. The bruise still hasn't healed…**_

Harry winced in sympathy and sent a cautious look over at his heavy-set trunk. The two golden buckles seemed to be glaring at him as the crack between the lid and body turned up at the sides in a sadistic smile. Shuddering, Harry made a mental note to avoid any spells until he learned to get his magic under control. It had been years since he had needed to use a healing charm and his knowledge was rusty at best.

_**I felt the incredible amount of wild magic in the air as soon as I got here, but I never imagined that it would react with mine to such a ridiculous level. I am almost afraid to leave this forest lest I run into some unfriendly beings and am forced to use my magic to defend myself. I can only imagine the destruction that would take place if I were to lose control. I must train myself and prepare for anything that comes my way. Unless the trees come seeking vengeance for the wood I used to build a house. Then I am doomed.**_

_**With an uncertain fate ahead and no extra undergarments packed,**_

_**Rooveus Roden Rodolph**_

So that was what Harry had been sensing. _Wild Magic. _He faintly remembered Hermione mentioning it in one of her many "educational" rants, but he had tuned out early on once the words "Oh _honestly _Ronald, why do I even bother" fell from her lips. Ron's laziness had been nearly as legendary as Hermione's studiousness, and their clashes were something Harry had made a sport out of avoiding. He even awarded himself a few first place metals when he managed to evade some of their more nasty spats, which were signified by beat red checks and steam-expelling ears.

Harry set the book back down and rolled onto his back, throwing his arms above his head. Well there it was. He would have to relearn everything, from the most basic spells up, with only a book as guidance. _Ah, _Harry thought, looking sideways at the guide, _I really wish one of those wizards could just pop out and help me. Their rants are sporadic and riddled with nonsense. Or, at least what I think is nonsense. _Harry shot a look at a nearby tree, daring it to move and prove Rodolph sane.

After a few secondsHarry shot up, something the wizard had written sparking a light of hope in his personal cloud of depression. A house. Rodolph said he had built a house out of wood that was possibly from this forest. There was a house, potentially nearby, built by a _literate wizard from his world._

Harry grabbed the guide from the forest floor and walked over to his truck. He held out his wand, prepared to cast a point-me charm, when the words froze on his lips. That's right, verbal spells wouldn't be such a good idea right now. _Oh Lord, not a trunk to the stomach. _He couldn't afford to risk another chance for his magic to blow up in his face, yet sitting here and waiting for the animals of the forest to come looking for a daytime snack wasn't an especially appealing option either.

Carefully placing the Elder Wand into one of the many hidden pockets of the Invisibility Cloak, Harry closed his eyed and decided to try to use nonverbal magic to pick up a trail. Harry pictured a wooden house in a clearing much like the one he was standing in inside of his mind. The trees would stand tall and proud, puffing up their ladybug-free bushels of leaves. A beam of sunlight would fall right at the doorstep of the little, but sturdy hut. It might even look like Hagrid's in fact, well-worn and well-loved.

Harry suddenly jerked to a stop, opening his eyes. In his hands was his feather light-charmed trunk, the book tucked away, presumably safe in his cloak. He didn't remember picking his luggage up and he most certainly had not begun walking without knowing where he was going. Yet, in front of Harry stood the exact hut that he was imagining, right down to the blades of grass blowing lazily in the wind. Harry blinked a few times. _That was really creepy._

Looking back at the house, Harry set his trunk down and decided that he might as well go in, seeing as it looked like it had been abandoned for a long time. The two wooden steps groaned alarmingly as Harry stepped up onto them and the rust around the doorknob cracked and broke off as he turned it, showering his shoes with a reddish rainfall. The interior was surprisingly clean considering the outward appearance of the hut, setting off alarm bells that Harry promptly ignored for a later time.

A fake bearskin rug decorated the floor of the main room and carved patterns of leaves adorned the walls. A moderately size kitchen stood in the back left corner with no furnishings to announce the change except a four person table and a fire pit with a cauldron hanging over it, sans holder. This was most definitely a wizard's home. A couple of armchairs littered the space and a comfortable looking couch sat across from a ….minibar. _Now that just looks out of place._ And there, making up the ensemble, was an ancient-looking book shelf, carved with care, carrying dozens of familiarly bound texts. _Oh, thank Merlin._

Harry was about to explore this discovery further, when he heard a faint familiar squawking coming from outside. Harry frowned, quickly squashing the hope that bubbled up in his chest. It couldn't be, everyone from his world was gone, casualties in mad man's bid for immortality. Yet, the sound continued, reaching a higher pitch as of the animal knew that it was being ignored and wasn't taking too kindly to the revelation.

Turning around, Harry slowly made his way out of the cottage and peered up at the sky, cupping his hands around his face to block the glare of the sun. There, torpedoing down to her friend, prepared to peck his brains out after giving him an affectionate reunion grooming, was a speckled-black white owl, wings extended as if offering a hug.

"Hedwig?" Harry gaped, shock and elation warring within him as his dearly-missed owl swooped down to him, a rolled up scroll grasped rightly in her claws.

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><p>End Chapter Note: I couldn't help it; I love Hedwig so much that she just had to come back. Don't fret though, all shall be explained soon enough. Also, I don't think anyone else will be making a surprise appearance, so don't hold your breath expecting Luna to jump out of a lake to appear in front of Harry in a tutu…. Actually, now that I think about it….. But no.<p>

As a side note, do you like my vague Stranger in a Strange Land reference? My mind resisted, but my hands typed it out regardless. This will be my recommended book of the week, I suppose.


	3. Death's Prophecy

This chapter's dialogue might get a little confusing, so here is my guide:

"Severus Snape" = verbal speech

_Legolas Greenleaf _= Harry's thoughts/ the little voices in his head

**Ron Weasley** = Parseltongue

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><p>Chapter 3: Death's Prophecy<p>

Harry studied Hedwig intensely as the owl preened her already pristine feathers, blatantly ignoring him. After her arrival she had swooped down to him, wrapped him in her wings in an exceedingly awkward yet satisfying reunion, and then flew off to find dinner. Harry had spent the following ten minutes frozen in confusion before Hedwig came back to devourer an unfortunate rodent in front of him. They were currently engaged in a very one-sided staring contest, with Hedwig hopping back several paces for every step Harry tried to take towards her, the mysterious letter dangling from her left claw taunting him.

"Alright girl, please take pity and throw me a bone here. The curiosity is killing me." Harry finally begged, tired of their little game and eager for answers, his main question being how his dearly departed owl was currently perched atop a rock in front of him. Hedwig didn't appear to be a ghost and she seemed to possess the same affectionate, playful personality his owl used to have. Yet, the image of his white speckled friend falling from the sky after taking a Killing Curse meant for him was too clear in Harry's mind for him to take the miracle at face value.

Hedwig hooed and flapped her wings a bit before she finally relented and shuffled towards Harry. She stuck her leg that held the letter out, which Harry thankfully took, a grin on his face at "winning" the contest.

"Let's see what we have here," Harry murmured as he lifted his hand to break the black seal holding the parchment in a rolled position. As soon as the wax was broken off, Harry let out a short scream as a foreign presence ran over his magic, inspecting and probing as it went. Curling into himself, Harry quickly erected the Occlumency shield that he had been working on for decades in his mind in case the invading magic wanted to go there next.

Finally, after several minutes the presence seeped away from the wizard, seeming satisfied that the opener was the intended receiver. Harry crawled away from the letter, which had warped itself into the unmistakable shape of a Howler, and berated himself for opening unidentified mail, a mistake he had stopped making in his Second Year after the Parseltongue incident, which had resulted in a lot of cursed letters and Howlers. Yet, Hedwig had never delivered anything unsafe before.

_Yes, but are you even sure this is __**your **__Hedwig? _An obnoxiously sensible voice made itself known in Harry's mind. Shrugging it off, he turned his attention to the Howler presently grinning at him as it floated a few yards away from him.

"Good evening, Mister Potter, I trust we are having a fine day," the letter began in a surprisingly pleasant voice that held an underlying patronizing tone. "It had come to my attention that you may have a few questions regarding, well, quite a bit, and I don't want you to feel scared or **alone**," Harry gritted his teeth and had to suppress the urge to throw a stinging hex with his wacked out wand at the Howler, " so I have decided to come and explain. Unfortunately, I am quite busy at the moment and have no time to spare, not even for my beloved **master,**" Harry's stomach dropped as dawning horror clawed at his insides, "so I brought back an old friend of yours to help along the transition. Making Middle Earth your new home may take some adjustment, but I have overwhelming faith in you, master, and I am sure you'll do fine. Just be sure to stick to the paths and take the crossroads as they come. And beware the King of Gondor; his rule relies on you. Yours **Forever**, Mandos."

The Howler ripped itself to shreds as Harry paled at its last few words; they had sounded suspiciously like a Prophecy. He was most definitely not getting involved in another one of those, seeing as the last one had led to the destruction of literally everything and everyone Harry had ever held dear. The Wizarding World had given him the best friends he could ever want and delivered to him the godfather he hadn't known existed, before tearing them all away from him, one by one. Even if the fate of an entire kingdom rested on his shoulders, Harry was content to just sit in his wooden hut, practicing magic and caring for his last remaining friend for the rest of his days. _Just keep telling yourself that, Harry. Denial is important in a hermit._

As he starred at the scraps of paper dancing around on the forest floor, Harry pondered their sender. While the idea of Death, a universal entity that, to his knowledge, had never really conversed with the living or taken a physical form, sending him a relatively polite Howler was hard to swallow, the rather pointed clues were difficult to dismiss. Beside, Harry was technically the Master of Death, which had already proven to be more than just a fancy title to add to his vast repertoire, so maybe it wasn't too weird to be getting an obnoxious letter from it. _Not to mention I am the sole survivor_ _of an extinct planet, so I guess Death has taken a special interest in preserving me._

Harry finally stopped examining the ground and looked sideways at his owl, who had taken the liberty to place herself on his shoulder once he had vertically righted himself, unwilling to face a Howler lying down. At least he had gotten Hedwig back; she was his first friend before he had met anyone from Hogwarts, bar Hagrid, and he supposed that reanimating actual humans was harder than bringing an owl back to life. At least Harry really hoped that it was and that Death wasn't just messing around with him. He was already Fate's plaything; he really wasn't interested in being another all-powerful being's entertainment.

Harry realized that he also now knew the name of this new world: Middle Earth. Snorting, Harry shook his head. This place looked nothing like his world from what he could tell, but the coincidence of names was still funny. Walking back into Rodolph's hut and plopping down on the couch with Hedwig flapping after him, irritated at her perch's movement, Harry pulled out the Traveler's Guide and flipped to the first map. Absentmindedly silently transfiguring the Elder wand into a quill and a random leaf settled beside him into an ink bottle, he wrote _Middle Earth _in big, loopy letters on the vacant top left corner, in his eyes completing the lacking map.

Feeling better about his situation now that he had accomplished something and the foreseeable future was hopefully surprise-free, Harry sprang up and headed to the kitchen space, his wand reverting back to its original form. He would have to explore the other rooms that the two doorways indicated branched off from the main area and make arrangements for the night later, but for now he would need a snack so that he could begin training his magic. While Harry had the Sword of Gryffindor tucked safely away in his trunk and was more than proficient at using it, wards needed to be put up around the house if he intended to continue living there, which he did. Harry wouldn't dare try such complicated spell work until he regained control of his magic and there was no time to begin practicing like the present.

~ Four Hours Later ~

"Nox! Ahhhh!" Harry screeched, clawing at his eyes in an attempt to shield them from the sun-like blaze that alighted on the tip of his wand. Harry flung the Elder Wand into the stream that ran parallel about a mile behind his hut for the fifth time. The space was exactly what he needed; it contained trees that blocked him from any prying eyes that might wander by, though Harry had not yet found any signs of civilization beyond the forged trails, and the fish from the lake were perfect to practice the Levitation Charm on. However, his blind training wasn't going well at all, and the once beautiful alcove had been trashed; the bark of the trees was covered in burn marks, the grass had turned a dull brown within the first hour and most of the fish had become accidental casualties. Hedwig had long since abandoned the hazardous zone to catch up on her own flying practice.

Harry yelled in frustration and climbed up a mostly untouched tree. He faced away from the water and crossed his arms, refusing to retrieve his wand this time. The sun was already beginning to set and every single spell and hex he had tried so far was a complete disaster; he couldn't even manage a _Wingardium Leviosa _with his wand without the focus of the spell rocketing skyward. At this rate it was going to take him years to build up the control necessary for warding, which, like most of the higher level wizardry, required a wand.

**Hum, what do we have here? A sssily little human has entered my domain. This is unheard of and unacceptable; sssomething must be done.** Harry heard the hissing to his right and tilted his head, only to spot a gorgeous snake unlike any other he had seen before. Its light brown skin had a black diamond pattern with an oval of green in each center running down its back, which blended in perfectly with the tree that housed it. The snake appeared to be about two meters long and was rather slim circumference-wise. Its jade green eyes, similar to Harry's own, analyzed the wizard that sat on a branch a few over from the one it was wrapped around.

**Well, I have never met a snake in a tree before, so this is a first for me as well. **Harry was mildly surprised that he could still speak the serpentine language. He hadn't tried since he got rid of the Horocrux that had taken up lodging in his head for the first decade and a half of his life since he had been busy with the war. Afterwards there hadn't been any snakes left to test if he still possessed the rare Dark ability, so Harry had written it off as an unsolved mystery. It seemed that once spoken, Parseltongue couldn't be unlearned.

**Yesss, well be that as it may...** The snake suddenly reared back, its hood flaring out in surprise. **Who sssaid that? Was it you, meatbag?**

Harry raised his eyebrows at the rude snake. It was almost cute, with its head tilted to the side and its tongue extending and flickering rapidly. **Well it certainly wasn't the fish in the creak. Because, you know, they are dead and all**

**Ah yessss. **The snake sighed in delight. **I thought I sssensed those pompousss jerksss getting their just desertsss. But who are you? I have never heard of a two-leg who ssspoke to one of my kind before.**

**I am Harry. I don't know about anyone else, but I happen to enjoy the company of a sssane sssnake every once in a while.** Harry recalled the little garden snake he used to chat with when he was working on his chores in the garden at the Dursley's house during summer break, as well as the one he had helped to enact a daring escape with at the zoo on Dudley's birthday. Most snakes he had met were either thrilled to speak to a human, wished to use him to further their own interests, or were simply ambivalent to him. The only truly awful snake Harry had ever met was Nagini, and she had been polluted by Voldemort's madness.

**Well, **the snake simpered, **I suppose it is an honor to meet you Speaker Harry. I'll just be on my way then. **

**Wait!** Harry called out to the retreating reptile. **Do you have a name? You don't have to leave yet. And it is just Harry.** Hedwig probably wouldn't be too happy about sharing Harry's attentions, but this snake was the first interesting being that he had talked to since Luna passed away. Not to mention, until he could get his magic under control, Harry probably wouldn't be able to interact with other humans for a while and a steady source of conversation would help to keep the impending loneliness at bay.

**Sssnakes sssuch as I have no need for a name. I am sssimply the official guardian of thisss tree.** The snake glumly admitted.

**Hmm, ssso maybe we ssshould sstart off with a name.** Harry looked closely at the snake, whom revealed himself to be a male, and tried to think of anything other than "Diamond", which had made its way into his mind and refused to leave. The snake deserved a proper name, not a cutesy one based off the pattern decorating his skin. Harry suddenly remembered the name that Death had called himself in his letter and grinned as the perfect name for the snake became clear.

**How about Manny? It is the name of a **_**dear**_** friend of mine.** Smiling widely, Harry hoped that Death was watching from wherever it was he spent his free time.

'Manny' was nodding thoughtfully. **Yesss, I sssupose that name will do. Now come Speaker,** the snake hissed, sliding over to Harry and wrapping himself around the wizard's offered arm. **The time has come to fulfill your evolutionary duty and feed your snake**.

Harry chuckled; Manny sure had gained confidence quickly. They were going to get along swimmingly.

The two chattered along as Harry trekked back to his home. He froze once he broke the tree line a little ways from the back of his hut. Standing tall and animated were, _oh dear Merlin,_ what appeared to be tree-people. Huge arms of bark extended from their torsos and the trunks split midway down, creating legs that ended in two root-feet. The four giants had ancient faces with moss growing impressive beards around all of them except one. The oldest of the tree-people walked up to Harry, closing the meager distance in half a step, and crouched down so that he could look into the wizard's eyes.

"I am Treebeard, leader of the Ents of this forest. Are you the one who lives in this home?" The massive tree-person, now identified as an Ent, asked.

Harry stared at Treebeard for a few second, before moving his gaze to the other three Ents. He then looked over at Manny, who had moved to lounge around his shoulder, and whispered desperately, **The trees have come for their revenge! Rodolph had it right all along. We are doomed, abandon all hope!**

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><p>End Chapter Note: Alright, next chapter the story should pick up in action as we get closer to the beginning of <em>The Fellowship of the Ring. <em>And don't worry; the Ents are (possibly) friendly .


	4. Flying the Coop

Author's Note: I haven't actually read the _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy in a few years, so most of the events in this story will probably be based off of the movies. Even then, it is likely I will get a few details wrong and differ from the original plot line some, so just bear with me please. If Boromir doesn't die when he is supposed to (because I actually like him quite a bit) or I don't write their dialogue completely accurately, take it as creative license and do with it what you will. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

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><p>Chapter 4: Flying the Coop<p>

Bouncing his leg as he tried to ignore the growing awkward silence, Harry did his best to look anywhere other than at the four Ents standing across from him. After his panic attack, Harry had tried to bolt back into the forest, fearing the wrath of the giants. In retrospect, it might not have been the best idea to escape from a bunch of tree people by surrounding himself with other trees. This fact was quickly proven when a vine lifted itself from the ground, tripping Harry. It had wrapped around his body and carried him back to the clearing behind his hut with help from a few of its friends, where it then proceeded to tie him to a conveniently placed boulder.

The following conversation revealed that the tree-people were not in fact here to seek any righteous revenge for their fallen brethren, but instead had come to investigate. Rodolph's hut was apparently not only made of wood, but was actually rooted into the ground and as much a part of the forest as any other plant. The Ents identified themselves as the guardians of the Forest of Fangorn, a name which Harry noted in his mind to look up in the guide as soon as he was free, and said that they wished to check if the presence that occupied the long-abandoned home was a threat to the forest.

Harry was now left uncomfortably strapped to a bolder that he was sure had eroded so unevenly for the sole purpose of annoying him with its sharp curves as the Ents waited for him to explain himself. Telling the full truth, he decided, would be far too dangerous in such an uncertain situation, and Harry didn't particularly fancy being called crazy by talking trees. On the other hand, he wouldn't really be able to lie about being a harmless traveler seeing as he had no idea which towns were nearby, or even the name of the general region. Not to mention, the destroyed, previously peaceful alcove only a mile away wouldn't back up his claim of being harmless very well. Hedwig was still flying around somewhere and Manny had dove for cover under Harry's dark blue sweater once the vines had begun winding around him. He was currently more than happy to stay in his hiding spot as Harry "did his evolutionary duty and protected his snake from the big mean twigs". The snake was apparently expecting animated trees as much as Harry, so this new discovery had shaken his very foundations.

Looking back at his audience, Harry decided he needed to start talking quick. The Ents didn't look impatient at all; quite the opposite in fact. They appeared to be in no rush as their rooted feet began settling into the earth, suggesting that they wouldn't mind waiting for days if that was how long it took Harry to answer. That wouldn't bode so well for the wizard, seeing as the day had been long and stress filled and Harry was about ready to use the jerk of a rock as a makeshift pillow. Falling asleep in front of strangers that were more than capable of being dangerous didn't seem like a good idea. If Harry wasn't conscious, then he wouldn't be able to protect Hedwig or Manny if something were to happen. Straightening his shoulders as much as he could, Harry opened his mouth and said the closest thing he could to the truth while still being painfully vague.

"My name is Hadrian Remus Potter-Black. I was sent here by a friend and decided to visit someone I thought lived in this house. He is not here though," Harry needlessly pointed out.

The Ents cocked their heads to the side slowly in union and the oldest one, Treebeard, took a step forward.

"I am afraid your information was faulty, young one," the Ent began in a deep, slow voice, as if he had all the time in the world to stand there and talk with the wizard. "No one has lived in this home for a very long time. I can sense the magic within you, but I haven't heard of any recent losses or additions to the Heren Istarion. Who are you really?" The Ents leaned down again and inspected Harry, as if trying to judge his sincerity.

Blinking rapidly, Harry looked up at the group. An idea was forming in his head, one that would allow the Ents to no longer view him as a threat, as well as help solve his futile struggle with his uncooperative magic.

With a wide grin, Harry finally met Treebeard's ancient eyes and began explaining his proposition. "I would be more than happy to tell you all you want to know. However, I'm going to need a little help as well…."

~ Ten Years Later ~

Harry groaned as he rolled out of bed, sending a _silencio _at the annoying buzzing alarm that had been going on for fifteen minutes. Putting his head under the pillow, Harry smiled as he soaked up the warmth from the covers. Summer was ending and fall was making herself known with a vengeance, casting her chilled breeze throughout the land. _Why did I set that devil alarm again? Oh yeah, it was supposed to wake me up for the….thing….the thing with the trees…_

Shooting up, Harry cast a _tempus _and cursed at the time. He was already going to be late as it was, so Harry ran over to his wardrobe, pulled on a black wool shirt and brown pants and flew out the door, grabbing the Invisibility Cloak on the way and forgoing breakfast entirely.

During the last decade, Harry had worked on restoring the exterior of the hut to a less run down look. All of the rust had been cleared away and he made a point to water and look after its roots, so the wood making up the home's frame had never been healthier. He had also made an interesting discovery about the inside; the hut was semi-sentient, not like the Ents, but more similar to Hogwarts .It was able to create and remove rooms based on Harry's needs, while still staying the same size on the outside. Rodolph had obviously cared for and lived in the place for an extremely long time for so much magic to have settled into its very foundations. The main room always remained the same with its comfortable living space and corner kitchen, but the two doorways on either side of the room always changed depending on what the house sensed Harry required. If it was late at night and he came in stumbling after a particularly draining session with the Ents, the closest door would lead to his bedroom, which was a nearly identical replica of the room he had shared his fellow Gryffindors at Hogwarts. Once, when Harry had returned home angry after a fight with Manny, the house had led him to a blank room only containing a pile of dummies with Voldemort's face on them, and wouldn't let him out until he had blown off some steam. The wizard had taken to fondly calling the building "Mom" when it did things like this and Harry always got a warm feeling back from the house returning his affections.

Harry jumped over a hidden log on the forest floor and he raced by, pulling at the snake around his neck as it began to choke him in its bid to keep from flying off. Manny hadn't become any wider, but he had grown another meter and had improved his strength; trying to remove his grip was the equivalent of trying to bend a steel girder. Hedwig on the other hand hadn't changed at all and was flying nimbly through the trees, screeching out a laugh every time Harry nearly ran into something in his rush. Harry had astutely ignored the fact that his owl was living far longer than possible for her species and decided that he owed Death one for not taking his companion.

Finally, Harry could see the clearing where he was supposed to meet the Ents and slowed down to a walk, pulling out the twigs that had gotten tangled in his hair during his dash. For the past ten years, the Ents had been helping Harry train his magic and adapt to its increased intensity. He had never revealed exactly where he came from and the Ents didn't ask once they ensured he wasn't a danger to them, solving Harry's dilemma. The Ents had agreed to protect his hut until he was able to erect wards around it and would oversee his practices and clarify anything Harry found in Rodolph's magical texts that he didn't understand. They were surprisingly knowledgeable and well versed in the magical arts. Harry never asked how, seeing as they were magical creatures themselves. He also didn't want to accidently bring up a sensitive topic; the Ents had revealed that they were the only four left, with the youngest one only waking up a few years ago. All of the others had reverted back to motionless trees, beginning with the disappearance of the Entwives. Harry had really wanted to ask how the Ents reproduced after that divulgence, but had suppressed his question and allowed the conversation to die after seeing how upset the usually stoic tree men were.

In return for the Ent's help, Harry began helping to patrol the edges of the forest. While the Ents were powerful, they were also very slow; they had only been able to confront Harry on the day they met so quickly because they had already been a few miles south of the hut, enjoying a week-long stroll through the forest. The wizard used his golden snitch, which had been turned into an excellent spying device by the Weasley twins during the war; it kept a constant watch on the borders and alerted him if anyone was about to enter. Harry would then get a chance to practice his apparition, using the maps from the guide as reference so he didn't accidently splinch himself, and investigated the disturbance. He usually just used a bit of magic to help travelers through quickly so that they wouldn't accidentally get lost or hurt the forest. Apparently, people had been whispering reverently about a "Forest Spirit" who occupied the Forest of Fangorn and protected those who passed through the old woods, which the Ents enjoyed teasing Harry about. However, lately there had been some nasty creatures trying to gain access to the forest. Hulking gray, disfigured beasts would try to use the paths through the woods, tearing brutally threw any nature in their way and massacring the local wildlife, taking far more than they needed to sustain themselves. Harry had already been forced to exterminate five parties of the monsters, whom the Ents called orcs. The Sword of Gryffindor was getting far more action then it had seen in a while.

A few weeks ago the four Ents had traveled to the borders themselves to observe the problem first hand. Harry wasn't able to apparate them, so they had to take the long way. The Ents were supposed to return today and Harry had agreed to meet them in the clearing that he had found the first day he arrived. It had regained its majestic beauty with time and was the most calming spot Harry had found in all of the forest.

Breaking into the alcove, Harry was relieved to see the Ents already there and unharmed. They had assured him that they were more than capable of protecting themselves, but Harry had still been worried; if they ran into a band of orcs, the Ents would have no weapons to defend themselves. But then again, the giant spikes decorating Lowen's, the youngest, branches had to be able to do some damage, and the Ents themselves were fairly intimidating.

"How did it go? Did you encounter any orcs? Are they dead? Are you dead? No wait, I mean are you okay? Do you know what is going on?" Harry rapidly fired off questions, eager to talk to his mentors again. He had grown close to the Ents in their time together and almost considered them his surrogate family, like he had with the Weasleys.

**Are you asking them about their search for a lady snake friend? You said that you would. They found one, right? Man, I am so excited! **Harry ignored Manny. He had told his snake that the Ents were just going out to find him a girlfriend because he didn't want to worry the already chronically nervous snake who, if he had been a human, would have died long ago from an anxiety-induced heart attack. After he got over his fear of the talking trees, Manny had declared the Ents his "hatchlings" and forced Harry to translate all of his nagging. This lie ended up being a big mistake, though; the snake wouldn't shut up about finally meeting a lady (Hedwig apparently didn't count) and Harry had been very close to a mental breakdown.

As usual, Treebeard acted as the spokesperson for the group and answered Harry. "We have found the problem you described; it seems as though the orcs are using our paths as a short cut from Angmar. We have no idea why they are heading south, but the reason can't be good news for anyone. We have decided to seal off the forest completely for a time. It would be best if you left for a while as well; these woods are becoming dangerous and darkness is beginning to shroud these land."

Harry frowned at the Ents. "If something is threatening this forest, then I need to be here to help protect it."

Treebeard shook his massive head. "No, child. The others will be waking up soon and we will be strong enough to defend ourselves." Harry's eyes widened in shock at the admission. The rest of the Ents would be coming back; this was excellent. He had always been curious about their slumber and had spent an embarrassing number of hours staring at random trees, waiting for a twitch or some sign of life. He had always been rewarded with snickers from Manny and cross-eyes.

"Besides," the old Ent added. "I have a feeling that you are needed elsewhere. Go and find your destiny. We will be fine for now."

Harry eyed Treebeard doubtfully. Destiny had never been very kind to him and he was not eager to see what else she had in store for him, especially with Death's parting words still looming over his head. But, if the Ents thought he should go, then he didn't have much of a choice. He would miss the forest that had come to be his home dearly, but maybe it was time to start exploring some more.

While he had apparated a few times to nearby towns once he had begun to gain some control over his wayward magic, Harry had always worn a hood over his head and refrained from speaking to anyone unless it was required, trying to be forgettable. Lately, the villagers had treated him with more suspicion than normal, just as Harry felt ready to make some actual human connections. His magic was finally responding how he wanted it to and he felt like less of a danger.

Bidding the Ents a (temporary, they all insisted) farewell, Harry headed back towards his hut. Packing up his trunk, which he had finally managed to charm bottomless, Harry prepared to leave his home. And, he realized, the hut had become just that: a home. While he had been referring to the wooden house as such all along, Harry just noticed that it had truly become a place where he felt safe and loved. _Well, a little late for that revelation, eh? _Sighing, Harry tucked the Traveler's Guide into an easy-to-access pocket of his cloak and slowly made his way out of the house, caressing the familiar wooden walls as he went.

Outside, Harry settled Manny loosely around his shoulders as Hedwig perched on his shoulders. After miniaturizing his trunk and slipping it into his pocket, Harry apparated them to the edge of the forest where he kept a horse he had rescued from an abusive caretaker in Rohan two years ago. The night black horse, which Harry had named Luna due to her tendency to stare at the sky dreamily and explore everything without getting spooked, had fallen in love with Harry and the surrounding forest and welcomed her friend with an affectionate head-butt. After regaining his balance, Harry fastened a saddle onto his horse's back and jumped up onto it.

"Alright girl, let's start heading North."

~ Two Months Later ~

The dark room was full of smoke and the sounds of raucous laughter and feet walking over the squeaking floors. Harry sat in a corner with his back to the wall, the hood of his cloak pulled up to shroud his face in shadows. While living in the forest, his features had finally matured enough for him to be able to pass off as a nineteen year old without any raised eyebrows of disbelief. However, as he had figured out from some of the people in the towns he had passed through, there was still something off about him. The planes of his face, while appealing, were just a tad too sharp, they had claimed, and his eyes were too bright to be natural. Harry had taken the hint and rarely let his face show, even going as far as to let his black hair grow so that it nearly touched his shoulders in gentle waves, finally losing its uncontrollable wildness.

Harry had arrived in Bree just last night and had decided to take up lodging in the Prancing Pony. The Bree-folk were some of the friendliest people he had yet to meet. All of the humans, the dwarves, and the Halflings, who looked like well-groomed, barefooted dwarves, were talking, singing and just generally getting along well.

The wizard was listening intently to a group of dwarves and humans who were sitting at the table next to his. They were discussing trouble that was going on in the south and how many families had to move up north. Harry frowned and tightened his hand around the hilt of his sword, which he now carried on him at all times in a scabbard on his belt after an unpleasant incident on the road involving some bandits. The father north he travelled, the more news he heard about the evil that was stirring near his home. He had been tempted to apparate back to the Forest of Fangorn and check on his surrogate family, but he didn't want to upset the Ents by disobeying them. Treebeard wouldn't be satisfied until Harry had "found his purpose" and his worry was lessened a bit by the letters they sent back and forth via Hedwig. Actually, Harry had sent letters, while the Ents sent back flowers and bark, which Harry interpreted as reassurance that both they and the forest were doing fine.

Looking across the Inn, Harry saw two very drunk Halflings dancing atop one of the tables, singing at the top of their lungs. Another one appeared to be trying to get them to come down, while a fourth dark haired Halfling joined the first two. During their song _The Cow Jumped over the Moon_, the newest one fell off of the table when he jumped too far. Harry's eyebrows rose up his forehead when the Halfling disappeared from sight in the middle of the floor. An uproar spread throughout the room as everyone tried to figure out where he had gone. Harry looked closely at the ground and noticed soft footprints in the dust with no owner tread under a table a few down from his own. The Halfling suddenly appeared underneath the table, and Harry watched with interest as a man in a dark gray cloak pulled the boy from the ground and rushed upstairs with him, whispering furiously into the shorter one's ear.

Curious, Harry got up and followed the two, pulling off his Invisibility Cloak in the shadowed edges of the room and flipping it inside out. Once he made sure no one was watching Harry put the cloak back on, turning himself invisible.

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><p>End Author's Note: Just to clear this Master of Death business up, Harry is not immortal. He ages slowly and at an inconsistent rate and, while he can't kill himself because Death isn't willing to take him if he dies at his own hand, Harry isn't unable to die. Or at least he wouldn't be if he wasn't my main character, but I digress.<p> 


	5. When Darkness Comes

Author's Note: I'm changing a few of the smaller details from canon, but I will try to explain them as sufficiently as I can.

Also, Harry may seem juvenile, but, while he is actually over sixty years old right now, he grew up in a war zone. He has two mindsets: the strategic, cold leader and the teenage boy, who had no real chance to grow up and spent over thirty years comforting and singing children's songs with Luna. Only the latter Harry has been presented so far, but once the real danger begins Harry will stop playing and become serious. Hopefully.

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><p>Chapter 5: When Darkness Comes<p>

The old wooden planks squeaked and groaned underneath Harry's feet as he made his way up the staircase, flinching at each step. Every sound seemed to be amplified and he had to plaster himself to the wall twice in order to avoid a drunken person tripping down the stairs, unaware of the invisible wizard in their way. Manny was hissing out protests from his badly chosen spot around Harry's waist, demanding to "drive" next time.

**Humph. One day you are going to messs up a sspell, and then I will be the human who bangs his sssnake, you, into walls, and laughs at his noble dreams of entrepreneurship, and "accidently" loses his favorite mirror THREE TIMESsss, and forgets his birthday week- OW! That one was on purpose! **

Finally making it to the top, Harry was able to spot the two men he was trailing just as the taller one slammed the door of a room at the end of the hall. Tuning out the hissed threats to his nether regions, Harry glided over to stand next to the door and put the side of his head against the wall. After he cast a focused amplifying charm at his ear, the muffled noises from the inside of the room became loud and clear.

"Well, _Mr. Underhill_, what exactly was that show you put on? Are you purposefully trying to ignore the warnings Gandalf gave you? The Ring must be kept secret at all costs; you could have endangered us all!" Harry matched the annoyed voice to the older man, as he didn't think the vocal cords of the Halfling could produce such low tones.

"What? Of course not! I never meant for any of that to happen. And how do you know about Gandalf and the Ring anyways? Who are you?!" The younger man's voice began to take on an edge of panic and Harry tensed, narrowing his eyes as they flashed coldly. If there was one thing he had retained from his past life, it was his deep hatred of bullies. Dudley and his gang had taken every chance to belittle and hurt Harry when they were young, and he wouldn't stand on the sidelines like the other kids and adults had during his childhood.

"Everyone knows the story of the One Ring. My name is Strider and I am a Ranger sent by Gandalf to guide you on your way to Rivendell. The path is treacherous, and will be even more so now that word will spread of your stunt here. We must leave quickly." Shuffling could be heard as Harry assumed the man started packing. All of this talk about important rings made the wizard give in to the need to look down at his left hand. The Resurrection Stone shone proudly in the Peverell family's heirloom ring on his pointer finger, where it always ended up, no matter how many times Harry had tried to rid himself of it. He really hoped this "One Ring" was less of a pain than his own. _Wait, a One Ring? That sounded familiar. Where have I heard it before…?_

"Huh? No way! I am not going anywhere with you. Besides, my friends are waiting for me downstairs. I can't just leave them alone, especially not if this place is as dangerous as you say!"

_Hmmm, it wasn't any time recent, I am sure of that. It must have been right after I first got here, before I met the Ents…._

Harry continued to lean against the wall and ponder under his cloak, not paying any attention to the three Halflings as they made their way past him to bust open the door.

"We can't afford any more distractions. Hurry, take this bag and we will leave through the-"

"Hold on one moment! Where exactly do you think you are going with our friend? You can't just kidnap people; what are you, crazy?"

_Crazy? Oh, that's right! Rodolph mentioned hearing about a One Ring in his journal entry. It must be a big deal if it has been around as long as that batty old geezer._

"Pippin! Merry, Sam!" At the sound of pounding feet, Harry finally looked back towards the room and was mildly surprised to see the door ajar. Peering in, he saw the dark haired Halfling being pushed behind the three others from the bar protectively. The man, Strider, stood up from his knelt position by the bed where he had been stuffing supplies into two shoulder bags. The air between the two sides was tense as each waited for the other to make a move. _I wonder when that happened._

Turning back around out of sight, Harry decided to break the stalemate and took off his Invisibility Cloak before flipping it back around.

Plastering what he hoped was a friendly smile on his face, Harry ignored its uselessness with the hood covering his head and entered a few paces into the room.

"Good Evening!" The five occupants of the room jumped in surprise and turned towards the sound of the wizard's voice. "I couldn't help but hear your shouting from down the hall and thought I would stop by. Everything alright here?"

Mr. Underhill looked up at the cloaked stranger and narrowed his eyes. "I don't suppose you are another guest Gandalf failed to warn me about. Have you come to _help _as well?"

Harry tilted his head to the side. "Gandalf?"

"Yeah," one of the other Halflings, Merry, butted in. "You know, reeeealy old, carries a fancy wizard's staff around and knows how to put on a mean fireworks show."

A picture of a grinning Dumbledore preparing to light the fuse of some Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes fireworks with Voldemort strapped to them as the red-headed twins crackled madly in the background suddenly popped up in Harry's mind. Shaking his head, Harry quickly dispelled the disturbing image.

"Err, yes, well I haven't a clue as to who that is. No, I am just a curious passerby trying to keep the peace in any way that I can."

Strider took a few steps forward between the parting Halflings to stand before Harry. "We do not need any help, _Stranger_. Please continue on your way."

"Now hold on one moment," Mr. Underhill spoke up. "From my standpoint, this man is just as trustworthy as you are, though he wasn't sent by Gandalf. I would prefer if you _both _left us alone."

The Ranger turned to the young man and knelt down closer to his height. "Does that ring frighten you, Mr. Baggins?"

Mr. Underhill/ Mr. Baggins gulped and nodded his head. "Yes," he whispered. "Very much."

"Good, because it should." Strider righted himself and looked at the group of Halflings. "There are many dark creatures that are going to try to get their hands on the Ring. I am here to protect you from danger and deliver you safely to the Elven city. Please allow me to do my duty."

"Very well, Sir," Merry said, crossing his arms. "While we are hobbits and more than capable of taking care of ourselves, I suppose we could let you tag along." The other three rolled their eyes at their friend's antics and grinned.

"I don't suppose you could put up with my presence as well? I'm heading that way too, and there is strength in numbers and such," Harry added in. This quest-thingy seemed interesting and he hadn't had any constant companions since he left the forest beyond Manny and Hedwig. Not to mention, the guide hadn't included any information on hobbits and they seemed like interesting creatures that deserved to be documented.

Strider eyed the man suspiciously, but the hobbits looked more open to the idea.

"Well of course you must come along!" Pippin exclaimed. "You seem to be severely lacking in the essential knowledge of fireworks and general merrymaking. We can't allow this to continue; you must come."

Mr. Baggins and Sam looked more hesitant, but stood by their friend's statement.

"Wonderful then!" Harry pulled back his hood so that he could finally actually smile at them and ignored their immediate flinches at the sight of his face. "Let's get going then shall we? I believe you said something about dark creatures hunting us?"

A scream suddenly came through the window from the ground outside. Harry mentally cursed himself for jinxing them while Strider hurried the hobbits out of the room, swinging his two bags over his shoulders.

"We must hurry. The Black Riders have found us," the Ranger stated ominously. The six quickly ran down the stairs and out of the Inn. Strider led the hobbits to a back way out of Bree while Harry went to retrieve Luna.

"Alright girl, ready for an adventure?" Harry asked his horse as he swung up onto her back. His miniaturized trunk was safely tucked away in one of the pouches of the saddle and Hedwig had yet to return from her trip to the Forest of Fangorn. Harry pulled on Luna's reigns and guided her to the path that his new travelling companions had disappeared down.

~ Five Hours Later ~

The group had been travelling nonstop for hours. The hobbits had decided to pass the time by telling stories to the amused wizard and tense Ranger. The Shire, the homeland of the hobbits, seemed to be an exceptionally peaceful place, but Merry and Pippin had some especially interesting tales of their many pranking exploits. The two reminded Harry of a more innocent version of the Weasley twins. They also had an interesting conversation in which Harry tried to explain that, no, his name did not relate at all to what was under his robes and, yes, his parents were very much most likely in their right minds after his birth, and, no, he didn't have to shave twice a day. However, soon enough the Hobbits grew tired and hungry as the sun began setting and they all stopped to make camp on a rocky hill.

While they set up the tent, Harry decided it would be a good time to ask about the business with this "One Ring". The news was less than stellar.

"The Ring is one of the most powerful artifacts in Middle Earth and was created by the Dark Lord Sauron in the fires of Mount Doom during the Second Age," Strider began once Harry managed to convince him that he was from a small southern town and really didn't know the story. "His intention was to increase his own power and gain control over the other nineteen Rings of Power, therefor becoming lord over all of Middle-earth."

Harry frowned. "And how, exactly, did he manage to create such a powerful weapon?"

"It is said that Sauron concentrated a large part of his own power into the One Ring, and thus a part of him is within it. However, Sauron's fate became bound to that of the Ring as consequence, and in order to truly destroy him, the Ring must be destroyed as well."

Harry had a very bad feeling about all of this. This Dark Lord Sauron and his One Ring sounded far too much like Voldemort and his Horocruxes for comfort. After what happened to his old world, Harry really didn't want this new one to suffer the same fate within only a decade of his arrival. Death's Prophecy was becoming clearer now, and Harry didn't like what he saw.

Soon Strider, after extensively threatening Harry if he tried to betray them and hurt the Halflings, left to collect firewood and the hobbits settled down, complaining about their cold meal. Harry warned them that he was going to leave as well for a while and disappeared into the trees. Once out of their sight, Harry took out his Spying Snitch and instructed it to keep watch over the hobbits and warn him if anything happened. He planned on taking a brief trip back to his hut to try and find any notes Rodolph might have left on the One Ring. Harry had already searched the Traveler's Guide and came up with only a few passing references to it. Hopefully the bookshelf of magical texts would yield better results.

Harry apparated back to the Forest of Fangorn and immediately fell down in a crouch close to the ground, trying to regain his breath. Apparating so far took a lot of energy and magic, but Harry was hopeful that it would be worthwhile. Straightening, he took in the sight of his dearly missed home. Something seemed to have changed, and not for the better. Rust had invaded the creases of the few metal parts on the exterior and the entire clearing seemed to be just a tad darker than it should have been with the sun only just beginning to set here.

Worried, Harry ran up to the front door and put his hand on the cool wood. He allowed his magic to wash over the old house. The conscience of the house replied sluggishly, in sharp contrast to its usually quick and enthusiastic greetings. It was as if a sickness has overtaken his beloved home and was slowly poisoning it.

"Oh, mom," Harry whispered, regretting leaving his house in such a vulnerable position. "What has happened to you? Why didn't the Ents warned me what was going on?" This was inexcusable. Even if they didn't want to keep him from his _destiny, _there was absolutely no reason for the Ents to allow his home to become so ill. He couldn't leave now; somehow Harry had to heal and protect his home before he could return to the hobbits. _Maybe Manny will get his wish to become human sooner than planned.…. _

"Hey! What do you think you are doing to my darling?" The voice startled Harry and he quickly turned around, putting his hand that wasn't on the house into his pocket for easy access to his wand.

An old man with a graying beard wearing loose brown robes and carrying a long wooden staff with a green stone clutched at the end was marching up to Harry. _Was this the wizard Gandalf the hobbits had spoken of before? He certainly looked as deranged as I had pictures him…._

"And what is all of this 'mom' business?" The man continued, not paying any attention to the dissecting gaze the other wizard was sending his way. "I don't remember having a child. Wait!" He suddenly gasped, freezing mid-step and slapping a hand on his forehead. "Don't tell me you have been cheating on me! It was one of those damned trees, wasn't it? I knew they couldn't be trusted, no matter what Gandalf said! That must have been the reason they called me here, to rub it in my face. They have spited me for the last time. Justice will be served! Yes. I shall amass my rabbit army, and then we will….."

_Hmmm? Vendetta against the Ents…. Close relationship with my house….. Too insane for words….But it can't be, can it?_

"Excuse me," Harry interrupted the mad man's rant. "But might I inquire as to what your name is, Sir?"

The brown wizard straightened himself and stared at Harry with a disturbing intensity that didn't seem to fit the man's earlier attitude. "I am Radagast the Brown, one of the five Istar. And who might you be?"

_It had to be him! Alright Harry, let's handle this with care. _"I am Harry Potter, and the current occupant of this house. I've been on a vacation for the last few months, you see. You wouldn't happen to be a wizard who used to go by the name of Rooveus Roden Rodolph by any chance, would you?" _Whoops._

Radagast's eyes seemed to sharpen further, and before Harry could move he found himself on his back, the brown wizard's impressive staff at his throat. "How do you know that name? What do you want?"

"Wait! I'm from your old world and mean you no harm. Ask the house. Let her show you that I am no threat!" Harry tensed on the ground, preparing to fight back with everything he had if the man didn't listen and decided to truly attack. He had survived too much to go down passively lying on his back.

Radagast cocked his head to the side and allowed his eyelids to lower some. He began nodding his head and after a few minutes he withdrew his staff and offered Harry a hand up.

"I've never actually told anyone about my origins, so you frightened me a lot there. I hope I didn't hurt you?"

Harry shook his head and ignored the lack of an apology. It was understandable, and he would have reacted the same way if someone had blurted out a title from his old world that no one was supposed to know about. He really should have handled that with more tact.

"So another wizard has decided to travel here. Will you be staying for a while? The last one who came was a delight, but he had to leave in a hurry; he mentioned something about a moldy wart he had to deal with. I really hope he took care of that."

_Oh Dumbledore. _'Er, yes, it was taken care of, eventually. So, you recognize this?" Harry pulled out the Traveler's Guide and presented it to Radagast.

"Ah, that old thing! Of course, that book got me here and taught me all about the wonders of the nature here. Funny thing it was; the minute I decided I wanted to stay here indefinitely, it vanished from my desk! I spent days looking for it, and I never knew the book's fate until that nice Dumbly fellow came around." Radagast got a faraway look in his eyes as he recalled his acquaintance with the eccentric wizard.

_This opportunity is just too perfect. _"Well, now that we have all of that cleared up, could you possibly tell me anything about the On- Oh bloody hell." The alarm in his head went off, warning him that his snitch had spotted a danger heading towards the hobbits. _I really need to stop jinxing myself. No more optimism, only stone cold facts from here on out. Yeah, that will work._

"Sorry, but I really need to go now. Could you put any memories you have of the One Ring into this? I have an idea as to what it really is, a Horocrux, but I need more information to confirm it." Harry held out a vial, which Radagast took without hesitation once he heard the other wizard's theory. Horocruxes hadn't been a well-known topic in the Wizarding World, but those who were aware of them were rightfully weary about the dark objects, except for rare cases like Slughorn.

Once he had the vial back, Harry prepared to apparate, but then hesitated and looked back at his house. He couldn't leave with the building in such a dreadful state. Harry looked back at Radagast sternly. "Do you plan on staying and taking care of this house?"

The older wizard looked offended. "Well of course I can't leave my sweet in such conditions. It would be an outrage." Radagast's face then took on a more serious tone. "Don't worry; I won't allow anything to happen to my home. I may have left her for a while to explore and learn when I thought the land was still safe, but I won't abandon my first home now that the dangers here are clear. I will fix her up and protect her, you have my word."

Harry nodded, satisfied with his answer. Taking a deep breath, the wizard apparated himself back to the cover of the woods where he had first left the hobbits and ran towards their camp after leaning against a tree for support for a minute. Harry grabbed his snitch from where it was buzzing worriedly at the edge of the forest and put it back into his pocket.

Harry came within sight of the others, only to see them fighting for their lives against what appeared to be a horde of Dementors on black demon-horses. Pippin and Merry were throwing stones at them as Sam tried to ward some off with a… frying pan. Strider was running with his sword drawn towards Frodo, who was clutching his stomach, blood seeping through his fingers and decorating the knife of the Black Rider standing above him.

Clenching his hand around the hilt of his sword, Harry froze before continuing, now sprinting towards the disarray in front of him. _No, not another one….. They will survive. And the Riders will pay._

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><p>End Author's Note: As I was rereading, I noticed a few accidental innuendos scattered about (if you can't find them, just accept it as a good thing), but I decided to leave them for entertainment purposes and future awkwardness in case this somehow becomes a romance (the odds are low, but maybe). Speaking of which, if that is what you want, leave a review with a potential pairing and I will consider incorporating them or setting up a poll. Have an excellent daynight/ miscellaneous settings of the sun!


	6. A River of Disasters

I'm so excited; I have a new speech type to add to the list!

"Severus Snape" = verbal speech

_Legolas Greenleaf _= Harry's thoughts/ the little voices in his head

**Ron Weasley** = Parseltongue

"_I am also in italics, but notice the quotation marks around me. Pretty snazzy, huh?"_ = Elven speech

Author's Note: I am going to be mixing events that happened in the book with those that occurred in the movie, mainly because I like certain details better, but also for plot purposes. Sorry if anything gets too confusing.

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><p>Chapter 6: A River of Disasters<p>

_No, not another one….. They will survive. And the Riders will pay._

Harry collided with the closest Black Rider, who was trying to slash at the pan-wielding Sam. Pulling the Sword of Gryffindor out if its sheath, he shoved the creature away from the hobbits and took a protective stance in front of them. Three Black Riders stood in front of Harry, two of which were riding horses, and a quick glance showed that another was dueling with Strider while the last still stood over Frodo. For some reason, he was only watching the hobbit fight for breath as the hobbit leaned against the ruin of an old wall rather than trying to finish off the ring-bearer.

Refocusing on the wrath-like creatures before him, Harry parried a blow from the one he had knocked away while ducking to avoid a swipe from his left. He could feel his magic bubbling under the surface of his skin, ready to lend him strength so that he could defend himself and the people he was protecting. Harry briefly turned his head towards the panicked hobbits standing behind him. Sam still held his pan up defensively, but now had a lost look on his face, as if confused as to where he was and why he wasn't waking up from this strange dream now that his part was over, and the wide-eyed looks Pippin and Merry were swapping as they held their short swords pointed downward were less than inspiring.

"Run," Harry bellowed, surprising the hobbits out of their shock. "Go help Frodo. I will try to hold them off." His three opponents began to fight harder once they realized Harry wasn't becoming any weaker in their presence like he was supposed to, making it impossible for the wizard to divert his attention with speech any more. Luckily, Sam, once he realized that his friend was in danger, grabbed the other two hobbits and dragged them around the Riders, who had given their full focus to the wizard.

The two mounted Nazgûl had the advantage of height and began to circle around Harry since their full frontal assault wasn't working. One tried to stab the wizard as he defended himself against the grounded Black Rider in front of him.

**Behind you, behind you! If they get anywhere near back here they will be subjected to my super deadly venom! Oh, man those are some big swords…. **Dear Merlin, how had how he forgotten about his snake, who had hitched a ride with Harry back to the forest before falling asleep wrapped around his middle. Manny had been so unusually quiet and the weight around his torso had become so familiar that his presence had completely slipped Harry's mind.

** Not now Manny! **Harry, already having sensed the deadly attack, hastily summoned a magical shield to block it. Every time the Nazgûl tried to strike at his back or sides, their daggers would be stopped and repelled back, the shield revealing itself with a momentary green shimmer in the areas that it was touched.

Panting, Harry placed both of his hands on the hilt of his sword and put the most weight he could into each blow without unbalancing himself. With the two Black Riders circling him, he had no space to back up and the physical and magical stress was beginning to wear him down. During the war in his old world, the wizards had mainly fought with their wands and used long-range curses. The only up close fighting that went on was among the werewolves and other misunderstood creatures the Dark Lord had managed to bring to his side. Dual concentration while fighting was a skill Harry had forced himself to master in order to make himself more deadly against those who thought he was defenseless without his wand, but he hadn't had much practice in the last few decades. While trapezing around the Forest of Fangorn and defending it from the orcs had kept him in shape and his sword sharp, none of his recent battles had lasted so long or been against such powerful opponents.

The air around him seemed to be heavier and more suffocating than it had ever felt before; it was as if the beings surrounding him were sucking the magic away from the area. Every time he moved his limbs, it felt as if he were fighting through a vat of solid jelly, slowing his parries and allowing the blade of the Nazgûl in front of him to come closer and closer each time their swords crossed. The other two rained even more blows down onto his shield, as if sensing the wizard's exhaustion and his flattering hold on his magic.

Needing to end the fight quickly, Harry whispered a_ stupefy_ at the creature before him just as it was raising its arm for a powerful blow. While the magic slid off of the cloaked figure almost instantly, the short pause was all Harry needed to thrust his raised sword into its unguarded chest. An unearthly screech of pain broke free from the unseen face as theNazgûl stumbled away from Harry. The two circling Black Riders jerked to a stop around him, shocked to see their fellow wraith injured; no mortal blade had been able to pierce them since they had become little more than semi-corporeal shades. While they had been growing in strength along with the imminent return of their master, they had still not regained their human bodies and should have been impervious to such wounds.

Harry used their distraction to allow the straining shield to break and whipped out the Elder Wand with his left hand. More screeches filled the air, and the wizard looked over to see Strider successfully warding off the other two Nazgûl with a torch away from the hobbits, who had gathered in a huddle around the wounded Frodo. One of the wraiths caught on fire and the noises it made nearly forced Harry to drop his weapons to cover his ears.

Taking the hint, Harry flicked his wand and watched in satisfaction as the tip ignited instantly. The Nazgûl hissed at the flames as the wizard began setting some of the dry grass on the ground on fire, spreading the blinding light that drove off the darkness. The black horses growled out whinnies and pounded the ground with their hooves a bit before finally taking off.

The Black Rider that Harry had wounded dragged himself off the ground and looked over at the wizard. Its shrouded face stopped at the hand holding the Sword of Gryffindor and Harry glanced down to where he felt its gaze. The Resurrection Stone shone brightly in the blaze from its place in Harry's ring. The Nazgûl made come sort of gurgled noise that Harry assumed was part of its language and reached out longingly towards the wizard. Harry immediately pointed his still burning wand at the creature, which seemed to pull it from its trance. The creature turned away and flew after its companions, meeting up with his own mount on the bottom of the hill.

Harry felt the urge to go after the creatures and took a few steps in their direction, before Strider's answer to the flurry of concerned questions from Sam stopped him cold.

"This isn't good. He has been injured by their Morgul-blade. The poison in the wound will cause him to turn into a wraith himself if it is not treated with the proper care." The hobbits all let out horrified gasps at the prospect of their friend turning into a soulless ghost. Strider whirled around from his position knelt over Frodo at the sounds and fixed the hobbits with a frightening glare. "What were you thinking, you fools! The fire you built led them straight to us; it stood out like a beacon, announcing to all our location."

The three flinched and Pippin whispered in a trembling voice "W-we were o-only trying to have a warm meal. The bacon was uncook-ked and…."

"Well," Strider hisses, agitated, "I hope your _meal _was worth your friend's life."

Harry raised his hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his noise. _Sweet Morgana, the hobbits had risked all of their safety for a hot late-night snack. That's it; I just can't leave them alone. Their self-preservation instincts are even worse than mine were, and I tried to defeat a Basilisk single handedly as a second year! Well, I did succeed after almost dying, and Fawkes helped me out quite a bit, plus there was Ginny as motivation….._

Looking back at the group, Harry winced as he saw the state the hobbits were in. Sam looked like he was about to faint at the knowledge of the danger they had unknowingly put their friend in, while the other two looked as though they were going to cry after the last cutting remark Strider had made. Sighing, Harry marched over and planted himself between the human and the hobbits. Once their attention was on him, Harry stared pointedly down at Frodo.

"As much as your yelling is helping matters, I really think we should play the blame game later, or never, and focus on Frodo, who happens to be **dying** and is in desperate need of medical attention. Or we could always wait around for those things to come back and finish us all off. Personally, I am completely fine either way." The sarcasm was dripping off of his words, showing the others just how helpful he thought their bickering was.

Strider sent a wary look towards the young man who had managed to hold off three of the Nazgûl for a time with only a sword, but nodded his head in agreement. "He is right; the Black Riders will regroup soon enough and come back after us. We must travel to Rivendell quickly."

As the hobbits began quickly repacking their belongings, Harry went to find Luna, who had thankfully gone grazing out of ear shot of the fighting and was busy staring at a butterfly dueling with a bee for the affections of a blooming daisy, completely entranced. He didn't think he would have been able to restrain himself if his horse had gotten hurt; those dirty bed cloth-covered skeletons would have been hunted down before they could recover. As it was, Frodo's health came first and they needed to hurry if they had any chance of saving him.

With Strider's help, Frodo was lifted onto Luna's back and the party left the mountain of ruins. The rest of the ponies and Strider's horse had fled during the attack, so they had to travel swiftly on foot to try and make up the distance the Dark Riders would gain once they started after them on horseback.

The journey was much more subdued than it had been before with everyone now lost in their own thoughts. The three unharmed hobbits were stewing over their guilt at being the indirect cause of their friend's deadly injury, while Strider was trying to keep a pace brisk enough to satisfy the sense of urgency that hung in the air, but that those with shorter legs could keep up with. This was proving to be an unobtainable endeavor.

Harry, meanwhile, was taking up the rear of the group, walking backwards through the night as he refused to take his eyes off of the mist that hid their enemies somewhere within it. The stray broken-off branches and gray vines littering the forest floor silently moved out of his way as he passed just enough to keep him from tripping, but not radically so that the preoccupied Ranger would notice anything amiss. This was a talent the wizard had picked up during his decade in the forest; nature seemed to be attracted to him and the magic of his aura, so after some practice it became almost second nature for him to connect with the plants and animals in his vicinity. Once in tune with him, they would help him along his way unconsciously, trying to assist their new friend. _Yet, they are only as useful as their reach. The Riders had the advantage on the barren mountain, but if they try an ambush here, I'll use a vine to manually choke the undeadness out of them. No, Frodo, I must focus on Frodo….._

Several piercing cries rose up from the shadows alarmingly close, frightening the already terrified hobbits and making Strider and Harry tighten their hands around their drawn swords. The party began walking at an even faster rate, forcing the hobbits to have to practically jog in order to keep up. The Nazgûl had found each other and were coming after them.

An hour later the sound of hooves pounding on the dry ground gradually became distinguishable and quickly grew louder. The group lost all pretenses of leisure and dashed through the forest, Harry finally turning forward to keep up; even Luna had to increase her gait to a gallop, causing Frodo to let out a pained moan as his head bounced up and down with each stride.

Only their gasps for breath and the increasingly unsteady slaps of feet on the ground could be heard over the blood rushing though Harry's ears. Fighting the ancient once-men had taken a toll on his body and the lack of sleep and substance was starting to get to him. He could usually go days before he remembered that he needed to eat to stay alive, but the sudden flurry of activity was rapidly wearing on his reserves. Harry's magic, which usually wrapped around him like a security blanket, ready at a moment's notice, was reduced to a thin sheet. The dark surrounding forest air did nothing to replenish his magic it was more like a void than anything breathable, and only the faint rustle of the foliage beneath him reminded Harry that he still had some advantages.

The sound of a horse rushing towards them suddenly came through the night, and the group haltingly stopped their advance. Strider pointed his sword at the mist in the direction of the newcomer, while Harry kept his eyes behind them and carefully calculated how close the Riders were getting. It seemed as though one had ridden ahead to cut them off. All of the hobbits got out their short swords gifted to them by Strider, willing to fight to the death to protect their hurt friend.

The rider coming towards them appeared out of the mist first. A tall woman with dark hair and intense gray eyes atop a white horse strode forward, before stopping a few meters in front of Strider. The Ranger immediately pointed his sword downward and took a step closer to the woman.

_"Arwen, why are you here?"_

_ "I have come in search of you, Aragorn, and to assist the hobbits. What has happened, who is the stranger?"_

_ Elfish, _Harry thought, noting the pointed ears of the woman, which had previously been hidden before she turned to look at the wizard, causing the strand of her hair to fall behind her shoulders. It was easy to identify the language; he had spent many hours hunched over the guide, learning the vocabulary and sounding out words from the dictionary section. Westron, or Common Speech, had been easy to learn as it was basically English with a different set of slang terms, but the languages of other races, such as Elfish and Khuzdul, the language of the Dwarves, were a bit trickier to grasp. However, though it was hard for Harry to make out everything they were saying due to their rapid speech and his lack of ever actually hearing a native speaker that wasn't trying to kill him before, he was able to understand the majority of their conversation.

_"The boy is unimportant." _Well, that kind of hurt. _"But the ring bearer, Frodo, had been hurt; he was wounded by a Morgul-blade." _

The elf stiffened at his words and shot an alarmed look at the softly moaning hobbit.

_ "We must get him to my father quickly; he will know how to heal him. Please, help me take hold of the child and I will ride ahead to Rivendell." _Strider nodded and began to lift Frodo off of Luna.

Harry moved forward to aid in the transfer once the Ranger had made his intentions clear, making no sign that he had understood their words any more than the rest of the confused party. Going by the looks the elf woman kept sending his way, it was obvious she didn't fully trust him; he would learn more by feigning ignorance now than making himself look even more suspicious by knowing the elven language. Though, he was curious how Strider knew it; the man was becoming more and more interesting.

"If you are going ahead, Mistress Elf, then please allow me to accompany you. It will be hard for you to defend yourself while carrying another, and Strider should stay to protect and guide the hobbits, as he is the only one of us who knows the way." Harry had noted the knives and bow and arrow the elf, Arwen, was carrying, and had no doubt that she was deadly in any situation. However, he also wished to be there to ensure the protection of the Ring. Although he was still drastically under-informed about the entire affair, Harry knew that if those Dementor-like creatures wanted to have it, then he wanted the opposite.

Arwen sent another scathing look at Harry and turned to Strider, or Aragon, or _why can't people just use one name and stick to it! This is just like another game of the many titles of Severus Snape/ The Half-Blood Prince and Tom M. Riddle/Moldeywart. Sheesh. _

_ "I don't trust the Shadowed One; he reeks of death and sorrow. I wouldn't have him with me, yet I fear leaving him with the undefended. Tell him he may join me, but at a distance. He must also pass judgment before entering Rivendell; I shan't unwittingly bring danger to my home, even for you."_

Harry had to bite down hard on his tongue to keep in the burning retort of how he had been the one to _protect _those _undefended _just a few hours ago and had done a fairly decent job, _thank you very much. _Strider would hopefully set her straight.

_"I must agree; everything about him and the circumstances in which he turned up is suspicious. However, he hasn't shown any signs of betrayal yet and he has proven to be an adept fighter. Use him as protection, but don't leave him alone with Frodo. Farewell."_

The metallic taste of blood had begun to taint Harry's mouth by the end of Strider's reply. The effort of keeping his face blank and expectant was killing him, and the onset of exhaustion-induced crankiness wasn't helping any. _I suppose it is nice to know where I stand; at least the hobbits still like me. _He looked over at Sam, who was inching his way closer to the beautiful elf and copying her analyzing glances at Harry, as if trying to find out what she obviously saw lacking in the wizard. _Trust is earned, not given; trust is earned, not given; trust is earned, not given… mantras never have worked for me._

Manny was squeezing around Harry's abdomen with dangerous strength, but he had stayed blessedly quiet during the entire event, to which Harry was thankful. Snakes probably weren't feared as much as they were in his world, but being BFFs with a venomous reptile likely wouldn't earn him any points in the strict Elf's book. _I should introduce Manny to them gently. Maybe by putting him in Strider's pillowcase before he goes to sleep and letting them get acquainted? Yeah, that should show that I'm to be trusted…. _

Strider told Harry that Arwen had agreed to his plan, though not without some minor concerns. The wizard then sheathed his sword and covertly drew his wand into his left sleeve since it would be more useful before mounting his horse to follow after the elf, who had already taken off. The entire exchange had only lasted a matter of minutes, yet the Black Riders had gained a significant amount of ground during the time and Harry could hear them close behind them. Thankfully, they seemed to have passed by Strider and the rest of the hobbits, uninterested in anything other than the Ring on the chain around Frodo's neck.

The elf and the wizard flew through the murky, surreal woods with Arwen leading, moving as quickly as they could without running into any trees. Harry concentrated on the plant life and conveyed the danger the riders following him presented. They lent their meager help, but the vines were too slow and too weak against the solid strides of the Nazgûls' horses to have any effect. Harry's tired magic also lent its faint assistance, weighing down the air around the enemy horses enough to keep the faster undead steads from overtaking them.

The sun began breaking over the horizon as they finally arrived at an opening in the forest. An expanse of nothing but dead grass led up to a wide rocky creak that ran vertically ahead of Arwen and Harry. The two raced across the space; the Black Riders were able to gain quickly on them now that there was no nature impeding their way and Harry's magic had finally given out.

The Nazgûl had drawn close behind them and were beginning to enclose around their prey when they reached the creek. The Black Riders pulled back their horses and stopped at the edge of the bank, while Harry and Arwen rode halfway into the shallow running water. Frodo's condition had drastically worsened during the escape; his eyes had nearly completely clouded over, hiding the blue of his irises.

Harry looked over at Arwen, hoping for a snappy exit strategy. She kept looking up the river, as if waiting for something to happen. The Black Riders demanded for them to hand over the Halfling, to which Arwen replied, much to Harry's annoyance, that they should come and get him.

And so they did just as she baited. The Nazgûl began coxing their horses into the water, slowly moving towards them. Arwen had her eyes trained on the advancing party and was slowly retreating out of the water on the other side. Harry drew his sword, deciding to stay in the water in order to act as a barrier between the Nazgûl and Frodo and Arwen.

As the Nine drew closer, a rushing sound suddenly came from the source of the water, and Harry looked over in alarm to see a large wave coming towards him and the Nazgûl. He looked back at Arwen, who had a victorious smile that dropped in horror once she realized that Harry was still in the water.

"Out, out, come quickly!" The elf yelled in Westron. "Ada did not plan for another; you are not protected. Come now!"

Yet it was too late. Harry tried to turn Luna around from where he had been facing the Nazgûl, but the wave had been commanded to come so swiftly that anyone farther than a meter or two from the shore couldn't escape being washed away. It was the perfect trap for the Black Riders, and worked too well.

The water hit the wizard as surely as it did the Nazgûl, and with little strength left and no magic to protect himself, Harry was thrown back by its force. His head struck a stone on the stream bed, and Harry's world went silent and black.

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><p>End Author's Note: Just as something to possibly look forward to, I have plans to start a little series entitled <em>Harry's Adventures<em>, which will depict what happened during the two months between when Harry left the forest and when he arrived at the Prancing Pony. It will either appear as interlude chapters in this story (which will be clearly indicated in the chapter title as not to mislead), or as a separate drabble chain; I haven't decided yet. Opinions?


	7. A Council of Ninnies

Author's Note: My god, your guys' support is so encouraging. I thought I would be updating this story once every month or two, but I am flying through it thanks to all of your encouragement. Sorry if I haven't replied to your review, but rest assured that I have read and appreciated all of them.

And they keep coming:

_**We speech forms will never die out; we will continue multiplying until the end!**_ = Mental communication

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><p>Chapter 7: A Council of Ninnies<p>

_"There is nothing more you can do here, Estel. The two only need rest now; go and enjoy the company of the aware and leave the wounded to their recovery."_

_ "Very well, My Lord Elrond. But, please, send for me if either of them awake." _

The sound of heavy boots making their way from the bed across the room and the solid _thunk _that ended the sound signaled to Harry that Strider had finally left. The wizard had woken up hours ago, once his magic had restored itself enough to accelerate his return to consciousness. His body had already nearly completely recovered from the bruises and breaks it had received, which he could only assume was the work of the elves who had been moving in and out of the room constantly. Rather than moving and alerting those present to his condition, Harry had decided to instead feign sleep and reached out with his mind to his familiar.

Before the wave hit, Harry had managed to whisper the words that activated the protection spells that he had placed on Luna and Manny years ago. He shivered as he pictured what could have happened if he had never put those precautions into place.

While the wizard himself could take the damage from the rocks and knew he would be patched up, Luna would have been in much greater danger if she had gotten hurt without Harry able to immediately heal her. A broken leg for a horse was often a fatal injury as their owners had no use for a pack animal that can't walk and while Harry didn't think the elves would put down his horse without his consent, he was glad he didn't have to take that risk. Not to mention, while the elves might have been able to help Luna, Manny would have been on his own; Harry hadn't yet told anyone of his scaly familiar, and the snake would have probably been left to drown in the flood without any protection.

As soon as Harry had regained consciousness, he had searched out the connection forged between his mind and Manny's to ensure that the wards had been effective in keeping the snake safe. Their mind link was rusty from lack of use; the two were usually always together, with Manny wrapped around the wizard's shoulders or stomach, and it took a lot of panicked yelling on Harry's part before he finally got a response.

Manny, as it turned out, had been flung out of the water when Harry hit his head, where he had landed harmlessly on the grass thanks to the spells. He had then proceeded to hitch a ride on one of the distracted elves who came to rescue Harry before finally sneaking under the bed in which they placed his human in. The next twenty-four hours were, according to Manny, filled with "desperate pleas to a cruel, heartless deity and long, sleepless hours of worry". The only bright spot was that the snake had been able to assure the slightly panicked wizard that Luna had made it out without a scratch as well. Harry had taken the rant with a fond smile after that, so relieved at his friends' safety that he didn't even feel the need to point out that Manny had been snoring peacefully enough when the wizard first woke up.

Once their happy reunion was ruined by an off-hand comment from Manny (_**You know what would have made those pain-filled hours more bearable? That lady friend you promised me months ago and still haven't delivered. Snakes have needs, human minion.**__),_ Harry had sent the slippery snake out to scout the grounds of Rivendell. It was bad enough that he had no idea where the Elven city was in the first place as he hadn't yet had time to check the guide's maps, but since he had been unconscious when he was brought in, Harry didn't even know how to leave if a hasty escape was needed.

Since then Harry had kept still on the soft cot, regulating his breathing for appearances. His attention was split between listening in on the conversations around him and looking through his familiar's eyes as he tried to direct his ADD snake in finding the exits and where Luna was being held. It didn't work out very well.

After finally giving up on the scouting mission, Harry told Manny that he could roam around on his own and focused in on those around him. From what he had heard, Frodo was recovering in a bed on the other side of the room near the door. The other hobbits were forbidden from visiting their friend yet and only light-footed elven healers who murmured distastefully about evil filth tainting their sacred Hall of Healing glided around the room, tending to Frodo as he slept. Harry was just contemplating the best way of terrifying the obnoxious nurses to alieve his boredom when a man, Strider, going by his voice, and another elf entered the room. The others had immediately left the room to allow the two privacy, bowing and giving blessings to Strider's companion.

From their conversation, Harry learned that Frodo had been healed just in time and would be fine after a few days of rest. Also, to the wizard's relief, the elf mentioned that the hobbits were eagerly awaiting the chance to see Harry as well as their friend. This was also when he realized that his ruse was up.

Once Strider left the room, Harry finally opened his eyes and turned his head towards the only other conscious being in the room. A male elf of noble stature and long, dark locks stood at Frodo's bedside, his eyes trained on the wizard's form. He didn't seem to be angry or condescending at Harry's failed trickery, but rather looked curious. His countenance was similar to that of Treebeard's; it spoke of an aged wisdom and the patience and time to outwait Harry until he got the answers he desired.

"How did you know I was awake? " Harry asked directly. He had participated in plenty of staring contest with the Ents whenever he tried to get his way and had lost enough to know how ineffective they were.

The elf, Elrond, stayed where he was and rested a hand on Frodo's headboard. "I sensed the magic within you as soon as you were brought in. It had been increasing by leaps and bounds as it replenished itself, until it suddenly became stable a little while ago; I assume that is when you awakened."

_Well, so much for hiding my magic. So how do I explain it in a believable manner... Ah, yes; avoidance of the problem and fleeing is obviously the only solution. _

Harry turned to look at the door, glanced back at the elf, sent another look at the unguarded door, indulged in a quick check under the sheets to assure everything was properly covered and then innocently glanced once more at the elf.

The corners of Elrond's mouth slid upwards slightly in an amused smile as he tilted his head back a bit. "You are not a prisoner here, Istari, but a guest. You have nothing to fear from me and are free to leave and explore any time you wish."

"Indeed? Yet, I have a feeling that your sentiment isn't widely shared. Or, do you usually keep your patients on opposite sides of the room and feel the need to protect one from the other?"

The slight smile dropped from the elf's face and his arm fell back down to his side. Harry couldn't help but take the elder's refusal to leave Frodo's side as a sign of distrust. For some reason, the elves seemed to share a feeling of disgust and even slight fear of him, according to what he had gathered from Arwen and the healers' reactions. Although it wasn't anything he hadn't received from the fickle Wizarding public in his old world, it was hard to face the fact that he couldn't escape prejudice even where no one knew him, especially after the fairly easy acceptance he had gained from the Ents.

"You have a feeling about you that doesn't fit with your youthful appearance. As we elves are a more spiritual race than others, many have also sensed the odd magic that surrounds you and have taken it as something I believe it is not. These are dark times; nevertheless, I will do my best to dispel the false assumptions made about you. It will be your responsibility, however, to replace them with the truth of your character."

_How did this turn into such a deep conversation and with a stranger, no less? Merlin, I feel like I am speaking with Dumbledore when he was on one of his wizened lemon drop sugar highs. _

Harry decided to trust the elf for now and slowly got out of the cot. The elves had taken the liberty to disrobe him of his soaked cloak and garments (his pants were still on, thankfully) and had dressed him in a soft white gown; the Elder Wand was placed on the white table beside his cot. The entire room, Harry finally noticed, was a glaring shade of pure _white_ and reminded him far too much of the muggle hospital he had needed to visit yearly for mandatory checkups during his time with the Dursleys.

Without another look at Elrond, Harry grabbed his wand, transfigured the elven clothing into black pants and a simple brown V-neck. The Invisibility Cloak came to him on its own, settling around his shoulders once he was fully dressed, and his ring warmed on his finger, as if to remind Harry that it had never abandoned him. Harry crossed the room, but paused at the door. He glanced over at Frodo; the hobbit wasn't in as bad a shape as when the wizard had last seen him, but he was still far too pale and was taking shallow breathes.

He sent one final glance at Elrond. "I don't plan on going anywhere until I am able to speak to Frodo once more, possibly for a farewell. I shall do my best to keep out of the way and not involve myself in your affairs; I wouldn't want to frighten anyone."

"Of course," the elf conceded. Just as Harry slipped through the door, Elrond called out "food is served at an hour before sun down and the fast is broken at sunrise."

The hallway outside of the healing room had an exceedingly tall ceiling and white marble columns lined the right side rather than a wall, revealing a gorgeous view of mountains and waterfalls. Harry walked along the stone path and continued down flights of stairs, ignoring the elves who grew silent watched him as he passed. _Odd magical aura-type feeling or not, this staring is just impolite and unnecessary. _

Deciding to cut away from the path and the judgmental elves, Harry passed through the greenery and followed the rustle of the bushes and the bending of the flowers, trusting nature to lead him somewhere pleasant. He eventually arrived at a secluded alcove, hidden by tall hedges that parted for Harry to enter. A small, still pond rested in the middle of the clearing and an old stone bench sat in front of its edge with Manny sun-bathing on the smooth surface.

Harry snorted and walked over to sit next his friend. **Enjoying yourself, I see.**

**Ahhh, yesss. There just aren't many rocks like these usually found out in the wild; this place is paradise.**

**That isn't a rock, but a purposely made seat, and this isn't the wild, but a fully civilized city. **Harry replied dubiously. His snake just hissed out in contentment and rolled over, ignoring the logic that was infringing upon his peace.

Setting his elbows on his knees, Harry hunched over and peered at his reflection in the water, trying to see what had caused the elves such unease in his presence. His eyes were a bit eerie in their glow, so much like the Killing Curse's flash of light, but the rest of his face wasn't anything too odd. The lack of a constant diet that resulted from Harry consistently forgetting to eat led his pale face to mostly be comprised of sharp angles and planes. The wizard recalled what Arwen had said about him, about being able to feel death on him.

Harry glared down at the Resurrection Stone. "This is all your fault, isn't it? The rest of the Hallows are in on it as well I'd bet. No wonder no one has ever been the Master of Death before; you guys are a real pain." The stone set in the ring seemed to shine for a moment in pride at the recognition.

Flopping down on the bench, Harry looked up at the falling sun and sighed. It really was beautiful here; the pink and blue of the fading sky sharply contrasted with the dark contour of the mountains, creating a lovely, picturesque scene. Closing his eyes, Harry allowed himself to be lulled to sleep by the hissing breathes of his familiar in the light of the rising moon.

~ Two Days Later ~

Harry slowly opened the door and reentered the white room in which he had fled from just a few days ago. After hearing that Frodo had finally woken up and was ready to receive visitors, Harry thought it would be best to make an appearance.

He had spent some time hanging around in the trees and pulling some minor pranks on the uptight elves, reasserting himself in his Marauder heritage. The frog in a tuxedo singing forlornly to a recently widowed fly over the salad plate during lunch last night had been an exceptionally hilarious endeavor, in his opinion, and was most definitely worth the volley of arrows he had to dodge afterwards. Harry had primarily taken to camping out in his peaceful alcove, though, in order to avoid the parties of men and dwarves who were flooding into Rivendell. The entire city was filling more and more with different races and Harry really couldn't decide if he should stay and try to help, or cut his losses and run for the hills before he got too invested. He had only joined the group after leaving Bree a couple of days prior, yet he had already been in more danger then he has since arriving in Middle Earth. Although, Harry did have to admit that he had also felt the most excitement and thrill in just the first day than he had since the war.

Harry also wasn't sure what more help he could be. He had taken a look at the vial of Rodolph's memories in the pensive he had packed after finding it hidden in one of the hut's many rooms, but they didn't hold any helpful information that he could decipher. It had mainly contained the history he had already learned from Strider and a lot of half-formed thoughts.

His choice of involvement was made for him, however, when he entered the healing room only to be bombarded by a handful of joyful hobbits.

Pippin and Merry danced circles around the wizard, singing loudly "Our hero has returned, our hero had returned! Bring forth the sparkling fire sticks and the celebratory wine. Ehhh, that is, you are old enough to drink, right?"

Sam was far more conservative in his welcome, but still gifted Harry with a bright smile and an offered slice of pie. The wizard suspected that he may have felt a bit guilty about questioning him after he had saved their lives, but Harry held no ill will and accepted the peace offering as he took a seat by Frodo's bedside.

The dark-haired hobbit looked much healthier, his skin glowing with life due to the dedicated care of the elves. He looked somewhat disgruntled at being confined to the bed, but never the less beamed at Harry as he sat down.

"Good Evening, Mr. Harry. Sam, Merry and Pippin have been singing your praises and recounting your bravery in the battle against the Ringwraiths." Frodo's smile flattered at the memory and put his hand to his chest, where the Ring lay on a golden chain over his heart. "You have my thanks for your assistance; for without it I fear I would longer be here."

With a nod, Harry accepted the hobbit's thanks. "Of course, Mr. Frodo Baggins from Underhill, but I must admit the pleasure was mostly mine; those dirty laundry bags were a great help in getting some exercise. I am afraid spending so much time on Luna hasn't helped my waistline at all. And, please, just call me Harry." The hobbits humored the wizard with light smiles at his gentle teasing, likely relived that he wasn't yelling at them for their error. As far as Harry was concerned, it was better for the sheltered hobbits to learn what constituted as fatal mistakes now rather than when they were out on their own.

"Where have you been?" Pippin asked excitedly. "The Master Elf said that you woke up days ago, but we haven't seen you at meals. Are you avoiding us? Have you met Gandalf yet? Did you know that they only have _three_ meals here? Apparently they have never heard of second breakfast, or elevenses, and afternoon tea is completely disregarded and-"

"Oh, Pippin, _please_ do stop going on. I don't believe Mr. Harry wants to hear your complaints about your appetite, which are truly ridiculous, by the way. I mean honestly, there is a reason they always have fruits set out; we are obviously supposed to eat them as a substitute for the other meals." Sam scolded his friend as Merry silently mimicked his hand movements and speech behind him, causing Pippin to slap his hand over his mouth to hold in the laughter, which brought on another round of rebuke.

Harry stared at them quizzically; he was pretty sure the fruit was set out as an offering to some sort of deity, based on the ceremonies he had seen taking place around the bowl each morning, but felt that his input wouldn't be appreciated presently.

Frodo and Harry continued watching the show the three hobbits were unintentionally putting on, until the door opened and Strider, Arwen, an old man and Elrond entered the room.

The mobile hobbits immediately made to assault the Ranger and the old man as they had done to Harry, but aborted their mission once they saw the company that was with them. Strider sighed a bit but took a few steps forward, away from his companions, giving the hobbits permission to greet him in their own special way.

Harry sent a cautious look at Arwen, who, after making eye contact with her father, replied with a strained smile. Her right eye even twitched a little. _Drat, I am probably going to have to deal with that soon. _Harry dreaded the oncoming conversation he knew he would need to have with the elf to clear the waters. Unfortunately, his awkward teenage romance with Ginny and the brief relationships he had during the war only minorly helped his complete lack of finesse with the fairer sex, and the time he had spent with Luna actually made him regress a bit, since he had gotten use to only needing to deal with one person. However, since he planned on staying for the time being and Strider seemed to hold her opinion in high regard, it wouldn't be wise for Harry to allow Arwen's opinion of him to continue on being so negative without her actually knowing him at all.

Elrond walked farther into the room and addressed the occupants. "Now that you have awoken, young Frodo, I hope you will be well enough to join us. A council is being called pertaining to the possession you carry and Gandalf has requested you attend." He turned to look appealingly at Harry. "Your presence would also be appreciated, if you would be willing."

Harry was biting his lip as he studied the gray man holding a staff similar to Rodolph's in his hand, still standing in the door frame. So this was the great wizard Gandalf the hobbits had gone on about, as well as the man who had sent Frodo off with the Ring and only dispatched a single man to protect the hobbits. He reminded Harry too much of Dumbledore when the old wizard took on the advantageous role of puppet master. While the man had been a dear mentor and friend to Harry, he had to admit that his manipulations, while good-intentioned, often backfired since no one else was in on the whole plan and many got fed up with his plots. He would need to keep a careful eye on the older wizard to ensure he wouldn't inadvertently endanger the hobbits.

As these thoughts were running threw his mind, Harry wasn't paying much attention to the conversation and found himself absentmindedly nodding along with Frodo. He abruptly stopped and looked up, alarmed at what he could have just agreed to. Based on the self-satisfied smirk on Elrond's face and the disgruntled one Arwen had, Harry had a bad feeling that he would regret his inattention.

This was how Harry found himself shuffling uncomfortably on a stone slab trying to pass off as a seat that he shared with Frodo a few hours later, silently seething at his own foolishness. The very people he had spent the last few days succeeding in avoiding were filing into the open room, taking seats in the circle that surrounded a stone pedestal.

Harry could feel the weight of several eyes on him, sizing him up and wondering who he was and what made him good enough to be there. Curling up in on himself, Harry pulled his knees to his chest and threw his arms around his head, peaking in between them to see. _That's right, nothing to see here you nosy parasites. _Eventually all of the attendees arrived and Elrond rose from his seat and indicated for Frodo to place the Ring on the center column before addressing the crowd.

"We have come here to make a choice; one that will likely decide the fate of our realm for many centuries to come. The ring must be destroyed in the land of Mordor within the fires of Mount Doom in which it was created; one of you must bring it forth. The path we choose here will determine if this land and its people will fall into an eternal darkness or not."

What followed could only be described, in the politest of terms, as an utter shit storm. Men, dwarves and elves alike began yelling out ideas and claiming to be the best candidate to take the ring. A voice rose, stating "One does not simply walk into Mordor*", before it was drowned out again. The group of dwarves got into a particularly nasty argument with a few elven lords, the bad blood between to two races running hot, which led to a deafening shouting match.

Suddenly, a fully-bearded dwarf yelled out "what are we waiting for" and ran at the Ring, bringing down his mighty axe in an attempt to promptly destroy the artifact.

Harry just rolled his eyes as the dwarf was thrown back by a burst of power from the Ring, his axe shattering from the force. Frodo jerked violently beside him, probably startled by the noise, and Harry set a comforting hand on his shoulder. _What an idiot; Elrond just said that the only way to terminate the Ring was via scary boiling volcano. Oh, wait a second; I think I know that idiot…_

"Gimli? Do you really think that was the smartest thing you could have done?" Harry uncurled from his position slightly as he questioned the dwarf, curious to see if it was really his old acquaintance.

The dwarf's head shot up in surprise and he quickly jumped up from the ground. "Forest Spirit? Is that you? You're the one everyone had been talking about, sneaking around this city of polished rocks like a thief! Why did you not tell me you were here, we could have grabbed a pint or-"

"Enough!" A golden haired man shot from his seat. "This isn't the time for pleasantries! We are here to decide the fate of the Ring; I say we use it as the weapon it is. The Ring isn't a curse, but instead a gift to the foes of Mordor. Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!*" The man, Boromir, reached out for the Ring, his hand hovering over gold band.

Gandalf stepped forward from his place standing beside Frodo and began to chant in a heavy voice. The Resurrection Stone flashed searing hot on Harry's hand and a breeze blew by his ear, whispering the translation for the words.

"One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,

One Ring to bring them all and in the Darkness bind them.*"

A chill worked its way up Harry's spine and the gathering grew silent, the members horrified at hearing such speech within the sacred elven walls. Boromir's hand fell away to his side as he took a few steps back and fell into his seat. Elrond sent a look full of warning and reprimand at the gray wizard, but Gandalf continued to look into each person's eyes to ensure his message was received, stating "I do not ask for your pardon, Master Elrond, for the black speech of Mordor might yet be heard in every corner of the Earth.*"

Strider finally looked up from the seat he had taken on the other side of Harry, where he had been staring at the ground, contemplating the proceedings of the council. "The Ring cannot be used by just anyone; it only serves the dark master which created it. Trying to bend it to your will won't work as your mind will be poisoned by its influence, twisted and warped into madness until you are little more than the creature Gollum."

Boromir rose once more, gaining confidence as righteous rage ran through him. "And what would a shadowed ranger such as yourself know of these matters?"

A blond elf, the one who Gimli had been arguing one-on-one with earlier, rose to defend Strider. "This is no mere ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn and heir to the throne of Gondor. You owe him your allegiance.*"

The man stiffened and turned to Strider, eyeing him wearily. "Aragorn? This…. is Isildur's heir?" His mouth turned down in a sneer. "Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king.*" With that proclamation, Boromir turned around and sat back down in dismissal.

Harry heard Strider trying to calm the elf Legolas down, but only distantly. He kept hearing the titles the elf had called Strider over and over in his head. _Aragorn….. Son of Arathorn…_ _heir to the throne of Gondor…..Strider is Aragorn, the future King of Gondor. Then according to Death's Prophecy, he needs my help to…. Oh, fuck._

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><p>*End Author's Note: Wow, I sure butchered a lot of quotes from the movie and books, didn't I? Sorry to any hard-core fans who had a stoke while reading this. The stared lines are direct quotes or, aka, even more not mine than the rest of it.<p>

**Warning:** The next chapter is an interlude. I have decided to incorporate them into the story since they will affect the main plot; for example, the first will explain how Harry already knows Gimli.


	8. Interlude: Harry's Adventures - Part 1

Author's Note: The next chapter will be coming soon, but until then I have got to tell you, this interlude was just so much fun to write (if you don't get something, then assume I was trying to be funny and failing) and VERY RELEVANT!

But, fair warning: some of the fighting scenes are more graphic than usual, though not ridiculous‒I rated this story teen and up for a reason. Younger readers: be cautious. I am not marking the fights, because they are mixed in with everything else, but stop reading if you get disturbed.

Betaed by the wonderful Noradin. Any mistakes you see are still mine, though.

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><p>Interlude: Harry's Adventures - Part 1<p>

Upon the Lonely Mountain Nature Calls

The crunching sound of dry leaves being crushed under Luna's hooves and the faint, lazy beat of Hedwig's wings flying circles a ways above his head threatened to lull Harry to sleep. It had been a week since he had set out northwards from the Forest of Fangorn and little of note had happened. In fact, the most interesting diversion had occurred when a small group of thieves tried to rob him on the road a few hours after Manny fell asleep around Harry's neck.

Instead of fighting back, the wizard had simply slid off Luna and stood with his arms spread as he let them rid him of the non-existent valuables he carried until one of the men received a nasty surprise when the oddly patterned scarf he was trying to nab fought back. After basking in the satisfaction of finally being able to seemingly pull one over on Lady Luck and Fate for a few moments, Harry had drawn his hidden sword and wand and easily incapacitated the other three men, who were armed only with some farming tools and kitchen knives, enough so that they wouldn't follow him.

His amusement, however, had been dulled and then quickly extinguished once he found out the next day that the men weren't actually robbers with harmful intentions. While resting in a tavern near Lórien, he overheard a couple of men whispering about a nearby village that was in a bad way and had to resort to petty road theft just to get by. But a quarter of their men had been hurt the other day and couldn't fight anymore, which meant the little village was sure to perish since their meagre income was cut and they couldn't defend themselves if attacked by the growing number of rogue orc packs roaming around.

Harry's half-drunk glass of water was left on the counter and the weak village was surprised the next morning when their men awoke miraculously healed and a pocket of gold was found in the stream running beside their borders by a young boy fetching water.

The main roads were avoided after this as Harry led Luna through the grasslands towards the forest of Mirkwood. According to the guide, a race of prosperous woodland elves inhabited the forest and were supposed to be relatively welcoming to those with magic, at least according to an entry from Wilhelm Droxer, a German wizard from the 16th Century. He described his visit as having 'enough good mead and pretty trees to overcome the bad company and too well-kept-for-comfort dungeons'. The place sounded pleasant enough to Harry, so he decided to begin his vacation/journey there.

Upon arrival at the edge of the forest after only four days of travel ‒thanks to Luna's magically enhanced gait‒, Harry quickly realized that the advertisement was more than a bit misleading.

The trees were very pretty, it was true, but the humid air and the darkness that invade every little notch and corner, despite the position of the sun high in the sky, sufficiently killed the inviting atmosphere. The occasional set of partially decayed bones and scraps of clothing that could be seen littering the ground from outside the border also did little to inspire hope in his mission.

The trees were too high and densely packed for Luna to safely pass through, so Harry unpacked his shrunken trunk from his horse's saddle, created the illusion of an exceedingly scary looking man riding her to ward off unwanted intervention and sent her off around the woods to meet him on the other side of the forest. He planned on staying with the elves only briefly and Hedwig would be able to check on Luna to ensure she was safe. His owl had gained a lot of experience flying through tall trees, so this wouldn't prove much of a challenge for her.

With Hedwig perched on his shoulder and Manny climbing down his legs to slither on the ground in search of breakfast, Harry set out into the murky forest.

There was an old stone path that the guide advised on following, so Harry stuck to it the best he could. The high treetops blocked out the light of the day, creating an eternally dim space underneath that sent an uneasy feeling through his chest. Plants protruded and sprouted up from between the slabs of stone, breaking up the path and making it hard to tell where it was going. He followed it over fallen trunks, past sketchy creaks, across bridges and even around a few useless loops. Then suddenly, the last visible traces of the path disappeared completely.

Harry paused and frowned at the abrupt end. It was as if he was staring through a slightly warped window; the spot he was watching was out of focus and his eyes stung the longer he looked at it. Closing his eyes, Harry pressed the pads of his fingers tightly over his lids and whispered a dispelling charm. A weight seemed to lift from his head and he blinked his eyes a few times before looking at the path again. Sure enough, the broken stones were there, leading even deeper into the darkness beyond.

_There is magic besides mine here. Old magic, placed here by one seeking to make__travelers__lose their way. But for what purpose? Was it the elves themselves trying to keep people away from their land?_ Frustrated by the lack of answers, Harry continued on after picking up Manny, despite the snake's protests about the suppression of freedom and serpentine rights, and looped him around his left arm, leaving the right free to grasp the Elder Wand.

As the light lessened even more with the sun falling during the evening, Harry grew surer that there was something watching from the shadows, a predator waiting to pounce on unsuspecting prey. The pitter patter of dozens of sharp feet froze the wizard. Harry cast a cautious look around before raising his wand to the darkness muttering "Lumos".

The bright light revealed a disturbing scene. Ginormous spider webs, previously invisible in the dimness, were strewed all throughout the surrounding forest, hanging off of trees and spread out among the undergrowth. In fact, if he had gone just a few more meters, Harry would have walked straight into a particularly wide web spanning the width of the path.

Cursing under his breath, Harry took several steps back and ushered Manny around his torso so he could pull out the Sword of Gryffindor. These webs looked just like the ones made by the Acromantula in the Forbidden Forest. If the creatures here were anything like Aragog and his children, then Harry had no intention of sticking around to meet them.

But Hedwig was flying around somewhere, checking on Luna. If she got caught in one of these webs… Bollocks.

After taking a deep breath, Harry raised his wand and sent up a bright flare that broke through the treetops and then took off running. This would hopefully warn Hedwig against returning, attract the spiders towards him and away from her, and maybe even grab the attention of any nearby elves. He had a feeling he would need any help he could get…and soon.

Dashing through the trees, the sound of legs, of spider's legs, scuttling towards him motivated Harry to run faster. He felt the brush of something grabbing for him on the back of his leg and blindly flung a _Locomotor Mortis_ behind him. The following crash, succeeded by several thumps from other spiders running into their fallen companion told Harry that the leg-locking charm had worked. Using the distraction to gain some time, Harry ran a few more paces before stopping and turning around.

The spiders were nearly as big as Aragog and by the mad dash they were making towards Harry, they appeared to share his taste for human flesh. After sending an_I__ncarcerous_ to tie up the closest spiders and give himself a little more room, Harry sent a mental apology to the forest and made a protective barrier around himself before casting a powerful _Incendio_. The spell flew before him and exploded into flames directly on the front line of spiders. The creatures shied away from the fire and their burning brethren, many retreating back to their nests.

Several stayed, however, and crawled around the perimeter of the flames, determined not to give up their meal. Harry fired off a few impediment jinxes to freeze five of the spiders and severed several giant furry legs, but more still came, both lured in by the light and repelled by the heat. They used their webs and came down from the trees, landing near Harry and trying to stick him with their fangs and immobilize him.

They were too close for Harry to use his wand, so he raised his sword and prepared to stab at the closest spider, aiming for the neck.

Just then an arrow flew past Harry's shoulder and into the eye of the oncoming spider, causing it to jerk back in pain and allowing Harry time to make a hasty retreat. Looking behind him, he was immensely relieved to spot at least a dozen brown and blond archers dotting the trees and even more elves coming forward with swords drawn.

With knowledge of the backup coming to help him, Harry threw himself forward into the fight, the Sword of Gryffindor slicing cleanly through the spider's hides. The wave of elves came up behind him and made quick work of the giant arachnids, obviously used to fighting off the infestation. Within a few minutes the spiders had all been slain or fled. Harry set the tip of his sword on the ground and leaned back against a tree, relieved at the swift rescue.

"Oh thank Merlin am I glad you came; it would have taken me a while to get out of that. I was even worried for a second there that I was going to become fried wizard crisps for those giant sp-"

The arrow that would have impaled Harry to the tree if not for the invisible shield still in place brought a swift end to any gratitude he felt.

Harry jerked upright and raised his sword again, staring warily at the two dozen elves pointing their drawn bows in his direction. Their apparent leader, a woodland elf that looked just a bit too much like a brown haired Malfoy, stepped forward to address Harry.

"_Keep your weapons prepared and be ready to fire at my signal_. You are trespassing on our lands, Stranger. Men aren't welcome here, though there seems to be something… different about you; my arrow hasn't missed its target in a long time, and shouldn't have today." The elf looked at Harry consideringly before coming to a decision. "You may choose to come with us quietly to the dungeons, where you will be questioned by our King, Thranduil, or be cut down where you stand."

Harry blinked a few times. Oh yes, the well-used dungeons Droxer mentioned… Yeah, he thought he would pass on taking a chance with the elfish hospitality. Nothing about this suggested visiting their kingdom would end well for him. He thought there was also a Dwarfish city somewhere nearby where he could go to instead…

Turning his attention back towards the most recent threat to his life, Harry gave a winning smile to the elves and sheathed his sword. His hands went behind his back and he pulled his wand out of the sleeve he had put it in once the elves came. While blind apparation was definitely something he had wanted to avoid, desperate times called for desperate measures.

"As much as I would love to meet your king and inform him of the horrendous job he has done with the decor of this forest over tea‒you have seen the chewed on skeletons, right? It is both nasty and unsanitary‒I am afraid I have a prior engagement, so... bye."

Just as the elves fired their weapons at his refusal to cooperate, Harry pictured what the eastern edge of the forest would look like and apparated.

The world spun around him and he shut his eyes to avoid nausea before landing face first on the ground. Opening his eyes, Harry rolled over and took quick inventory of his limbs.

_Head? Check, obviously. Shoulders? Still there. Knees? Yep, along with my toes, knees and toes, knees and toe- no, bad Harry, no nursery rhymes, snap out of it. Hmm, torso with decorative whining snake? Oh, most definitely._ **Shut up for a moment Manny, I am trying to make sure I didn't butcher one of us!**

**Well, you don't have to wonder, because I am most definitely hurt. It is called emotional trauma, Harry! Giant Spiders! Murderous, rampaging elves! A forest without warm rocks in a ray of sunlight! The Ents had it right, darkness is taking over; the world will end in fire, not in a freezing, bottomless river after the aquatic rebellion like my sire said it would. Cursed fish.**

**...**

Harry abandoned his efforts and slowly sat up, looking around. To his relief, it seemed they had made it out of the forest, but he wasn't quite sure as to where they had landed. A single mountain could be seen in the distance and the edge of the woods that he had escaped were only about a kilometer behind him. Harry had just pulled out the Traveler's Guide to figure out where he was, which he quickly figured out thanks to the obvious landmark that was the Lonely Mountain, when a loud screech drew his gaze upwards.

A panicked Hedwig was flying over the trees and, upon spotting her friend, crashed into Harry. The owl began frantically accosting him to make sure he wasn't injured, scared by the flare that Harry always used in the Forest of Fangorn to warn Hedwig to stay away when he was fighting and didn't want her involved.

"I'm fine, Hedwig, I am fine! No need to worry, pretty lady. I am sorry about the warning flare, I just needed to ensure you were safe" His owl hooted once and smacked him over the head with her wing to assert that she wasn't fazed in the least by his flattery and was still mad at him for making her worry. "Alright, how far away is Luna?" Hedwig hooted thrice in response. "Three hours away? Well, that isn't too bad I guess. I am glad we didn't go too far. Speaking of which… how exactly did you find us so quickly?" Hedwig turned her head away in offense at the question and began to preen her feathers in a clear dismissal. "… Right, okay."

Harry sat back down and settled in to wait for his horse to arrive, glad for the chance to rest for a few hours. He was disappointed with the reception he had received from the elves; their caution was further proof to him that something seriously bad was going on. It made him want to return home even more, but Treebeard must have sent him away for a reason; it just wasn't yet clear what that reason was.

"For Erebor!"

"Ahhhhhhhhh!"

"Thorin, noooo!"

"It is time to make peace with your petty Gods, dwarven scum."

The clashing of swords and the screams of loss startled Harry into full awareness. He jumped to his feet, upsetting Hedwig from her spot on his chest, and raised his wand. Spinning around to catch sight of the battle, Harry was confused to find the land just as still as it was before he closed his eyes.

Bemused, Harry turned to Hedwig. "What was that? Did you see where the noise came from?" His owl just blinked at him shrewdly and awkwardly hopped farther away before perching on a rock and tucking her head under her wing to resume her nap.

**Wha? Are we leaving now? Just a few more minutes…** Manny groggily lifted his head from the grass he had nested in to peer at Harry.

**No. Didn't you hear them, the voices? It sounded as if a war was taking place right next to us!**

Manny eyed Harry pityingly and sadly shook his head. **I always knew this day would come, but I was hoping for more time to mooch off of you. It has happened: you have finally snapped. Gone loco. The train has left the station. You've had one too many lemon drops. **Harry really wished he hadn't told Manny all of those stories about his life and taught him muggle slang, but the snake was just so annoying when he was bored and he had needed a distraction. **It is alright Harry; I will stick with you until the end. Or until you try to kill me with a spoon; then I am trading you in for a new model.**

"Help…..please help us…"

"Smaug has burned Dale!"

"…there will be no help from the elves today either, just like I said…"

Harry turned towards the sound of the voices. They were much fainter now, almost like echoes, and were coming from the direction of the mountain. He debated for a minute on waiting for Luna, but she was still a few hours away and the voices were insistent, fading and then reappearing with vigor. Little girls' screams and grown men yelling tore through the air, tempting Harry to find their origin.

"Wait here Hedwig, and lead Luna to us once she arrives," Harry told his owl, who ruffled her feathers slightly in response. He wasn't worried about her losing her way; Hedwig had always been able to find Harry, even when he himself didn't know where he was. Placing Manny around his shoulders, Harry pulled out the broomstick he had crafted four years ago with the help of a magical manual, the willing donation of a branch from Treebeard and too much spare time, and took off in the direction of the mountain.

He flew peacefully for an hour, following the ghost of voices crying for help, before a much more real noise drew his attention to the ground. A battle raged on below him; but it wasn't really a battle, more of a slaughter. A horde of at least thirty orcs, four of whom were mounted on giant wolves, had surrounded a band of armored dwarves, of which only seven remained alive.

Angling lower to the ground, Harry dropped some seeds before descending. He hit the ground running, shrinking his broom and stuffing it in his pocket as he drew his sword. Harry collided with the first orc just as it was turning to meet the new threat, severing its head from its body with one well-aimed swipe. The Sword of Gryffindor found its place once more, embedded in the familiar flesh of orcs; Harry had fought many of these monsters when they strayed into the borders of his home, and the sword had become used to cutting through their tough, malformed hides.

More orcs turned towards the wizard, giving the dwarves a chance to recollect themselves and launch their own offensive. Harry grinned savagely as the heavily bearded males let out thunderous battle cries as they raised their weapons against the monsters that had slain their comrades.

Though none of the orcs were particularly strong, their sheer numbers and reckless abandon forced Harry to focus on the battle as he whispered to the weeds on the ground to ensnarl the legs of the wargs and wrap around the feet of his opponents, making their bumbling forms easy targets. Yet this didn't keep him from noticing the numbers shouted out as one of the dwarves counted his kills. It seemed irresponsible, foolish, in bad taste and… fun.

"Four!" Harry joined in as he wounded an orc with a sword through the chest. He used the handle as a lever to flip himself over and onto the dying orc's shoulders, making the axe that was swinging for his back cut into his perch's abdomen, finishing it off. "Whoops."

"Urck." Harry looked over his shoulder after sending a severing charm at the helpful, axe wielding orc's head, slicing it in half ("Six!"). A dwarf was holding off the biggest orc of the pack, one of the last few left, with a splintered sword, straining to stop the wicked blade from slitting his throat. Another was coming up behind the pair, preparing to cut down the dwarf.

"Fall to the right. To the right!" Harry shouted across the field, making eye contact with the doomed dwarf. He gave the wizard a disbelieving look, as surrendering his upright position would surely cost him his life against the orc, but did as his savior said in desperation.

As soon as the dwarf rolled out of the way, vines laced with thorns exploded from the ground and wrapped tightly around the two gray creatures. The orcs howled in pain, sharp needles digging into their mangled flesh and ripping them apart as vines flailed around like the many necks of a hydra. The dwarves all paused to stare in horrified wonder as the last of the orc horde were brutally torn to pieces ("…Seven and…eight…").

Harry himself was surprised at the Howling Climbers' savagery; the seeds were a 60th birthday present from the second oldest Ent, Lowtwig. He had noticed Harry admiring the serpentine plants in the forest and had gifted the seedlings to the wizard for him to raise. The Ent had said they were particularly useful in combat and he had used them today, hoping that they would help in this battle, but the forest vines had always acted so happy and affectionate towards him, so he really hadn't expected …this.

The dwarf Harry had saved finally pulled himself from the gruesome sight‒the vines now appeared to be gnawing on the orcs' bones like a dog with a chew toy (Harry privately found this adorable)‒ and turned his attention to the wizard. After getting up and brushing himself off, the dwarf hesitated for a few moments before stepping forward and extended a hand in gratitude (a hand clad in a heavily armored glove) to Harry.

"Well met, young warrior, and many thanks for your assistance. I am Gimli, son of Glóin, and it is my men you have saved. May I ask your name and where you hail from?"

Harry took the offered hand. "I am Harry, son of, er, James. And I… hail… from the Forest of Fangorn, many miles south of here."

Gimli's eyes widened and he quickly looked back at the moving vines and scanned the ground, seeing the weeds that had held down the wargs long enough for the dwarves to kill them.

"Yes, I know; you are the Forest Spirit. You guide those seeking passage through your forest and watch over them like a divine protector, shielding them from harm. I have heard many grand tales of you from the dwarves traveling from Moria! This is excellent; it's an honor to meet you, only… you're not very hairy, you know?

"Yeah, I got that a lot in school. Also, I am less of a divine anything and more like a handy man or a… padawan. Yeah, I like that… They really were the droids you were looking for, idiots…"

The dwarf gave him an odd look before taking the wizard's arm and leading him towards the rest of the dwarves. The sun was setting and Luna and Hedwig hadn't arrived yet, so Harry joined the party as they set up camp beside a tall, flat rock wall, though he declined use of their tents for height issues that went unspoken ‒no need to offend to dwarves, who apparently never let go of their weapons, even in sleep.

The surviving dwarves gathered around a fire after properly wrapping their dead to bring home for mourning and burial. Harry leaned back on a log, preparing for the tale that Gimli insisted on telling to pass the time and to honor the fallen.

"We were sent by the King under the Mountain, Dáin II Ironfoot, to patrol this area. Orcs have been coming down recently from Mount Gundabad, festering in caves and feeding on our game. Ten of us were sent out to understand the situation, yet we were ambushed by the filth and their dogs and now only seven of us remain." The rest of the dwarves bowed their heads briefly before Gimli continued with his recount. "I was chosen to lead this party since my father, Glóin son of Gróin, is one of the dwarves of Thorin II Oakenshield's company who set out to reclaim Lonely Mountain. He is a hero and I do my best to honor him; I have failed in this, today."

Harry frowned at the ashamed dwarf. "Why do you say that? It seems to me as though you have acted very honorably today; you refused to abandon your men and instead stood and fought despite being outnumbered three to one. The majority of the orcs fell at dwarfish blades and hammers, not to any trickery of my creation. You have demonstrated leadership that would make any father proud."

Gimli's shoulder's rose in pride at Harry's words and at the other dwarves' affirmations. "Well this was nothing like the Battle of Five Armies, but I suppose the victory was hard fought and sound," the dwarf mused to himself.

This caught Harry's attention. "A battle took place? Where?"

As Gimli started on the story of Smaug the Terrible, the destruction of Lake-Town and the resulting epic battle between dwarves, men, elves and orcs for Erebor, Harry felt a sinking feeling as the pieces began to fall together. He had heard all of these names only earlier that day; they were called out among the cries and the sounds of war that had drawn him to this place in the first place. Though rather than being the present cries for help or tiding of future battles that he had thought they were, it seemed as if they were echoes from the past. But why was he hearing them now and in this place? What had changed?

The mystery kept Harry preoccupied in his own mind as the rest of the dwarves sat around the fire, swapping their own stories and legends. Soon the fire began to dwindle and smother, signaling it was time to turn in for the night. Harry found no rest that night as he stared into the glowing embers, accompanied only by Luna and Hedwig, who had both arrived only an hour after the others retired, and a snoozing snake.

Harry departed early the next morning, declining Gimli's offer of food and rest at Erebor with the assurance he would return one day. But for now, he had a new meaning to his quest and a puzzle to figure out. If the land was as overrun by orcs everywhere as much as here, then the towns and villages without an army of battle-hardened dwarves to defend them would need a protector. It was something to do, at least, while searching for answers to his plight; the tale of the three brothers never mentioned anything about hearing voices from the past. Looking down at the seeds of the Howling Climbers, which had retracted and crawled out of the ground into Harry's surprised hand after they were done with the orcs, the wizard couldn't help but wonder if his affinity for nature was connected to the mystery as well.

Riding away on Luna with Hedwig flying above in the sky, Harry never heard the words whispered on the wind that could only be understood by him, yet still sent a shiver down the dwarves' spines as they began to move out from their cleared-out campsite.

"Well, it only makes sense that you would be so in tune with the natural world. After all, what has more power over life then the inevitable death of it, Master?"

* * *

><p>End Authors Note: I promise, Harry's Master of Death title will be explained soon, most likely in the next interlude. I'm not just fooling around anymore; I (kind of) have a plan. Just hold on a little longer…<p>

Also, if any of you are interested in knowing what I have based the main map of Middle Earth in the Traveler's Guide off of, then check out my profile for the link.


	9. With Only One Path

Betaed by the stupendous KaribookWorm. Any and all mistakes are solely mine.

* * *

><p>Chapter 8: With Only One Path<p>

(or A Council of Ninnies the Sequel)

_Aragorn… Son of Arathorn… heir to the throne of Gondor… Strider is Aragorn, the future King of Gondor. Then according to Death's Prophecy, he needs my help to… Oh, fuck._

The rest of the council remained oblivious to the internal meltdown going on within the, currently frozen, cloaked wizard as their attention turned towards Boromir and Legolas.

"And I suppose the almighty _King_ thinks it his duty to take the Ring to the mountain himself! I am sure he feels that it is part of his divine right. After all, if he can't carry out such a simple task, then how could he run a great kingdom such as Gondor?"

_A great kingdom? Hmm, that sounds like a lot of pressure for one man. Or for one wizard… No, I can do this; Strider will just need some help, maybe a little protection_…

"Watch your tongue! You speak with such disrespect; you dishonor your people with your words."

"I dishonor my people? On the contrary, I do them a great service by renouncing this fool's right to rule. He would bring nothing but ruin to Gondor!"

"He is twice the man you could ever be! I would go through the perils of this journey alone, face the armies of orcs, the fires of Mount Doom and even Sauron himself with only my bow if he asked me to! A great man is forged through the connections he makes and the loyalty he evokes in others; I see no one stepping up to your side, Boromir of Gondor."

_Wow, those sure are some perils; are we certain the Ring won't go down with a few well-placed Fiendfyres- it worked on the horocruxes… Armies of orcs, huh? I can do it, I can do it…_

"Now wait one moment!" Gimli stepped in, "I would sooner lay down my axe during battle with a dragon than see an elf carry the Ring! You would probably make off with it in the middle of night like a thief rather than see the quest through, you cowards!"

The shouted insult brought on a round of taunts between the races and another screaming match started in the council. _Merlin, but these people are barmy. I can hardly ponder my own eventual bloody doom with all of these hissy-fits going on! The elves are the haughty cats, the dwarves are the rowdy dogs, and the Ring is the fresh pile of dung neither desires, but doesn't want the other to have. And the men are just those obnoxious hamsters who invite themselves to the party anyways… I have always wanted a hamster…_

"This petty arguing is doing no good!" Gandalf yelled out as he slammed his staff to the ground. Silence reigned in place of the chaos as everyone turned towards the man, who no longer appeared so old with streams of power radiating off of his body in waves. "We are here for a purpose; someone must be chosen to bear the Ring to Mordor, yet not alone. This journey will require many skilled warriors of all different walks of life- a fellowship of the races of Middle Earth, if you will. The ring-bearer must be one who can resist temptation in all forms, who is content with their life as it is and only seeks to preserve what they already have." The wizard's eyes swept over the crowd, his heavy gaze touching every individual, conveying the weight of the task.

Harry noted the shiver that passed through Frodo's little body beside him at Gandalf's words and absentmindedly cast a heating charm on the hobbit_. Just stay quiet a little longer and then you can go back to the Shire after this. The battlefield is no place for hobbits that don't understand how ineffective cooking equipment is in a fight, _Harry thought desperately, worried for his small friend.

Several guests adjusted themselves in their seats and a few looked ready to volunteer, but stopped at the last moment, waiting for someone else to speak first. After a few minutes of silence, Elrond began to rise in order to address the council again, when Frodo suddenly shot to his feet exclaiming, "I will do it; I will carry the Ring to Mordor."

Harry stiffened in his seat and barely managed to stop himself from grabbing the hobbit and pulling him down into his lap to protect him. Many of the guests looked surprised or amused, though Elrond seemed to take the offer seriously. Gandalf himself sagged a bit from his rigid position and leaned against his staff as he took a few puffs from his pipe. His face had drawn pale, but the aged wizard managed to keep the frozen look of horror hidden as he realized what he had led the hobbit into.

"Then I will follow you on your quest, my friend, for as long as you need me," Gandalf stated, walking over to place a hand on Frodo's shoulder. He had caused this mess, and he would see it through until the end; either the journey's or his own.

Strider stepped forward and pledged his assistance as well, followed by Legolas promising his bow, and Gimli his axe. Boromir rose and joined the forming group in the center, offering Gondor's help with a pointed look at Strider, asserting the fact that he had held the right to the kingdom's influence, not the Ranger.

Frodo sent a hopeful look at Harry, waiting for him to come and stand by his side. The young wizard wanted to support the hobbit, but it seemed too much like he was signing Frodo's death sentence. Joining the group meant supporting their decision to send the least experienced, most defenseless person in attendance as the central figure on a nearly suicidal mission. After losing every important person in his life to the useless schemes of an insane old man, Harry wasn't willing to watch yet again as his friends were cut down in battle; it was better to stay unattached. But, maybe he could help them, use his experiences and abilities to ensure they made it through safely. Could he handle that responsibility, though…?

As Harry debated joining the group, he failed to notice Frodo's falling face as the young wizard stayed seated, his features that could have given some clue to his thoughts shielded in darkness.

Just then, a rustle of leaves brought attention towards the hobbit that was jumping out from behind the bushes. "Hey now," Sam protested, "I hope you weren't thinking about going anywhere without me, Mr. Frodo."

"Sam!" Frodo's face only brightened further when the other two hobbits emerged from behind the pillars beyond Elrond's chair. "Pippin and Merry, what are you doing here?"

"Well, we are here to join you on your great big adventure, of course!" Pippin replied with a grin.

"Yep," Merry carried on, "You can't separate these hobbits for anything!"

"Indeed," Elrond commented, "not even during a secret council, to which I believe only one of you were invited." Despite his words, the elf seemed happy with the outcome and stood up. "The Fellowship of the Ring has been formed; as there were nine rings created, so there will be nine members to combat the evil threatening this realm and bring the One Ring to its end."

The rest of the council clapped at the announcement and laughed at Pippin's question of where they were going. Harry, meanwhile, gripped the bottom of his seat tightly as he fought down the urge to be ill. Nine people, four of which were not even warriors, but bloody hobbits, were being sent to protect and destroy the item that could spell the end of the world? _Really?_ When Elrond had said they were choosing someone to take the Ring, he thought that person would be at the head of an army, not in the middle of a small band of squabbling men. And the rest of these ninnies were just going to let them go alone! Was he the only one who saw the flaw in this plan?

Frodo looked up from his fellow hobbits and the crowd of people congratulating him, only to spot Harry as the wizard turned his back and left the council through the trees, his cloak billowing in his wake.

~ Five Hours Later ~

A feast was held in the grand hall as a celebration of the council's conclusion being reached with a party chosen to leave the day after the next, and no blood having been spilt. The elves dined on fruits and vegetables, the hobbits gathered around Bilbo to hear Frodo's uncle spin tales of adventure, and the dwarves picked out a nicely lit corner to get ragingly drunk in.

Only a dark haired hobbit and a solitary Ranger noticed the continued absence of the young cloaked wizard from the festivities. However, these worries were soon lost during the merrymaking as dwarfish songs were sung at obscene volumes, and elegant elfish dancers took to the floors. After the good times were had, the majority retired to their quarters for the evening, while those less than sober settled in on the grass and passed out with smiles on their faces.

Meanwhile, a sleepless night plagued Harry within nature's wall as he lay hidden in his alcove, and when the void finally did take him it was anything but restful. The skies of this new land, once so much brighter than that of his old world, were filled with fire. Ash rained down onto the bloody, browned pastures littered with bodies. The sickeningly familiar voice of Death murmured casualty rates and the random names of families that were left without a father, a brother, a son. Villages burned and entire cities were annihilated in single blasts. All of the lands of Arda suffered, not only Middle Earth; darkness spread to every corner of the globe, leaving a trail of desolation. Harry was forced to watch a much slower, precise destruction than his world had faced as the many races turned on each other- their futile attempts at stopping the Dark Lord Sauron, who had succeeded in obtaining the Ring, being abandoned for an all-out bid to survive.

He silently woke to the peaceful atmosphere of his hideaway. If there was one thing he had learned during the hunt for horcruxes, it was to never scream aloud after a nightmare.

Hedwig, who had finally caught up to her friend, slept on, perched atop Luna's broad back. An undercover rescue mission had taken place earlier that week to locate and retrieve the horse, and it had gone off without a hitch (beyond alerting the elfish guards and having to enact a quick getaway involving an "accidental" bleeding boil curse and nine feet of knotted red silk scarves).

Manny was jarred form sleep at the slight change in breathing that signaled Harry's return to consciousness. He was used to the wizard's nightmares and following need of movement from the many years they had spent together, so the snake drowsily slithered from his place on Harry's stomach and loosely wrapped around his shoulders, preparing for the usual routine. The wizard arose from the stone bench and left his sanctuary once Manny was settled, comforted by the familiar weight.

Wandering through the cold halls with only the hushed, distant chatter of others who were up during the night allowed Harry to focus on organizing his thoughts. What he had seen was obviously not just a dream; the events were too specific and he could still remember every detail with vivid clarity. Yet, if it was a vision sent by Mandos like he suspected, then what was the message? Could his help prevent this world's grim future, or was it a warning to cut his losses and high-tail it to a nice, secluded hermit-cave?_ Can I really get involved now that I know how this quest could end? But, how can I leave when I know how this quest could end?!_

A ruffling noise drew Harry's attention back to the present. As he looked up, he caught sight of Arwen as she made her way onto a balcony, just before she went out of view. Figuring it was a good time as any to have an uncomfortable but necessary conversation, Harry followed the elf. And then promptly turned back around and bolted in the opposite direction.

There were certain things a man just didn't need to see during a state of crisis; Strider and the evil she-elf making goo-goo eyes at each other under the starlight took residence at the top of the list.

Harry soon found himself entering the area where the council had been held earlier that day, or yesterday- he hadn't bothered to check the time. The chairs all stood abandoned and the air was still and calm; it seemed an unfitting fate for the space that had hosted such an influential, heated debate only a number of hours before. Yet, the place was not vacant; the grey wizard who had played such a critical role in the decision stood in front of the pedestal, a hand placed on the spot that the Ring had occupied during the council.

With soft feet, Harry moved to the other side of the stone column and rested his elbows on the edge before placing his chin on his linked knuckles. "Come here often, then? I heard this is a hot spot for those with a penchant for big sticks and pointed hats."

Gandalf sent a meaningful look to Harry's hooded, hatless head before responding. "I don't suppose that is really what you want to ask. While I applaud you for the effort, I would request you speak candidly to me tonight- I hold no desire for banter when so many fears weigh on my mind. State plainly your thoughts and I will hold off my questions regarding the impossibility of your existence."

"Then it is my true thoughts you will hear this night," Harry amended, before straightening fully and laying his palms flat on the hard surface. "Why do you support the decision to send Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry to their deaths? You can't tell me that you believe the few true warriors going on this quest will be adequate protection; one does not live as long as you and remain a naive fool. The hobbits will die."

The wizard seemed to age decades at Harry's words and a grim look entered his eyes. "You are sorely mistaken, black wizard, if you think I wish this fate for young Frodo and the others. Hobbits are sturdy creatures and by far some of the most remarkable beings I have ever met, but the Ring has broken kings and turned them into mere puppets."

"Then why did you allow this burden to be placed on his shoulders? Frodo has already nearly died whilst carrying the Ring, and he has only had it for less than a week! It is a curse, a fragment of a soul belonging to a powerful madman. Devastation and death lie in wait for those who try to get in between an ultimate weapon and its master. Yet, that evidently isn't a concern here, as you all want to bring the Ring right to the halls of Sauron himself. I can't be the only one who thinks that this is a bad idea."

Gandalf frowned as he looked into the darkness of Harry's face hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak. "You speak as though you know something the rest of us don't."

Harry raised his hands and pulled back his hood, revealing the haunted green eyes that bored into Gandalf's, forcing him to see the pain Harry had experienced. "We have both seen the havoc such weapons create in different forms, yet you still take such risks. The last war this land faced caused so much death, but the enemy was eventually defeated and peace returned. None of you can know what it is like for a war to come to a close only when everyone is dead ; the magic that is so abundant here would leave the air and any life left would slowly wither away. No solace would be found, not even in your revered Undying Lands."

"I am well aware of what is at stake here, but Frodo must be the one to take the Ring!" Gandalf bellowed, sending Harry one of the looks he had used to quell the men during the council. The younger wizard stared back stoically, already hardened by the many years he spent in Professor Snape's class under the dark man's glare. "I have thought about it deeply and I can think of no one more suited to the task- no one with a better chance of being able to block out the Ring's whispers. With the support of his friend and powerful allies by his side, I believe young Frodo can accomplish his task. The question presented here is, if in the short time you have known him- even if you haven't come to trust his character- have you at least grown to care about Frodo and the others enough to try and help them in this quest which they have nobly chosen to undertake?"

The temperature dropped a few degrees as the two wizards stared each other down over the cracked pedestal. Finally, Harry answered the elder's loaded question.

"Yes."

Gandalf blinked. And waited. And then blinked again. "Oh, well, I guess I am happy you feel that way. But, do you need more time to think things over; this is quite a serious responsibility for one so young."

"No." An extended silence occurred as Gandalf waited for an elaboration that wasn't forthcoming.

"Hmmm. Final decision?"

"Yes."

"No extra comments?"

"Are you compensating for something with that staff? It seems a little overkill to me."

"…. No."

"Ah."

"…. Do you really not like it? It took me decades to create."

"It is pretty, I guess."

"Her name is Tiesa. She is strong, sturdy- probably older than you, in case you were wondering."

"Perhaps. My wand was said to be created by Death and is basically unbeatable, but whatever."

"…. I see."

The pauses were no longer strained with the burden of unspoken issues, but instead the atmosphere was lighter since they had been brought out and discussed. The only tension now was created by the wizards' attempts to out-wizard the other, though it went as an unspoken rule that neither was allowed to crack a smile until one had left; appearances needed to be upheld, after all.

Three minutes later Harry removed his hands from the stone, gave Gandalf a stiff nod, which was similarly returned, and left the circle with dignity and grace. Moments later the sound of roaring laughter echoed off of the marble walls, disturbing many elves cursed with sensitive hearing; as if the ricocheting snores of the dwarves weren't bad enough.

As he walked along the path, a content smile found its way onto Harry's face. For the first time since he had left his hut in the forest, Harry felt secure in his purpose: no matter the outcome, he would do his best to see that the hobbits returned from their quest alive and the Ring was destroyed for good. He had failed in his duty to protect his own world; he wouldn't allow his new home to burn.

"It is not polite to intrude on private moments; a certain degree of respect is expected from guests, no matter how unwelcome they are." Well, that was one way to kill a perfectly good moment of self-worth and realization.

Harry closed his eyes and took a moment to collect himself before turning around and facing Arwen. The elf looked the same as she had when he had seen her less than an hour before, though now there was a sad, yet satisfied look in her eye, as if she too had come to a final conviction that night.

"It was neither my intent to spy on you, nor a crime I am guilty of in the first place. I was just passing through. Although, you do seem different- happy, as hard as it is for me to believe you are capable of such an emotion." An expression flashed across Arwen's features before she could school her countenance. It was too late though; Harry had seen that same look on Molly and Arthur Weasley's faces when they stared at each other too many times not to recognize it. "It is love: you are in love with Strider. And I take it he returns the sentiment?"

The elf narrowed her eyes at the wizard and tilted her chin back, averting her eyes, "Such things are of no concern to you; you have no place in either of our lives."

"What exactly is your problem with me?" Harry hissed. Arwen's gaze snapped back to him at the enraged tone. "I have done nothing but try and be of help to you and the others, yet you treat me like I have done you a personal disservice. I couldn't care less about what you think of me, but I will be spending much time with Strider over the next few months and I would prefer if your opinion wouldn't color his and my interactions. If you are so intent on this hatred, then at least allow me knowledge of its origin."

Arwen's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "You have decided to join the quest then?"

"Indeed. I plan on telling the others later today; I need time to prepare beforehand. But don't try to change the subject."

Walking over to the ledge, Arwen looked out at the spectacular view as she took a moment to articulate her thoughts. "It is nothing you have done, but it is the … feeling I get from you. It is foreign and dark in nature; it is embedded into your very being. Though, it seems to have lessened some now that you are away from the Black Riders…"  
>Well, yes, being the vessel of a horocrux for sixteen years and claiming the title Master of Death probably didn't make his aura very happy-go-lucky, but still… A feeling? <em>Really? That's it?<em>

"That is what you have decided to use as verification of my character? You ignore the trust your father and partner have placed in me in favor of a fading suspicion? I'm not buying it."

Arwen cleared her throat and continued to look away from Harry. "It seems a bit foolish when said aloud, but the doubt remains solid in my heart."

Signing, Harry walked towards the elf and stood silent until she turned towards him. "I am truly sorry that you feel this way, as it appears there is nothing I can do to change your mind. I do not ask you to trust me, but instead to abandon this notion that you already know me and make your own judgment in time." The two stood facing one another as Arwen considered the request. Eventually she nodded.

"I have chosen to live a mortal life with Estel," Arwen suddenly said. "That is why I appeared joyful. It is a decision that has long troubled me and I am glad to have finally accepted love as my reason to be."

"Mazel tov." He got a confused look in response. "I mean congratulations and good luck. With, you know, that mortal life and …stuff." Harry wasn't sure what to say, now that they no longer inexplicably hated each other, so he settled for an awkward bumbling comment.

"Thank you." And there was really nothing more to say.

As he left his second confrontation in an hour, Harry was more than ready to call it a night. Therefore, he wasn't too thrilled when he saw Pippin and Merry coming up the path towards him with their arms swung around the other's shoulders, singing drinking songs and nursing wrapped bottles in their hands.

"Nope; I am not doing this again tonight." Without a hint of shame, Harry dove into the bushes lining the walkway and traveled the scenic route back to his hideaway.

~ The Morning the Fellowship Departs ~

Harry had spent the day before traveling back to the Forest of Fangorn to inform Radagast and the Ents of his decision to join the Fellowship, as well as to drop Luna off at the hut; the quest would be very dangerous and the horse wasn't nearly as durable as Hedwig and Manny. The snake could travel on Harry and was armed with venomous fangs, while the owl could fly everywhere and had the advantage of sharp talons; Luna would be halted at the first natural obstacle and couldn't defend herself as easily.

It was a bit awkward when he arrive in the middle of a civil war between the brown wizard and the tree people, who were fighting over the hut's "virtue" (the wizard kept insisting something was going on between her and Lowtwig and the Ents just seemed entertained by his actions and kept egging him on). After subduing Radagast, Harry had put out the minor fires that littered the forest floor and sat them all down to discuss his plans.

His trip had lasted longer than expected, as Radagast insisted on Harry hosting a couples counseling session to work out his marital issues, so he didn't arrive back to Rivendell until late the night before the Fellowship was to leave, but overall the trip was a success. Treebeard was satisfied that Harry had found his purpose, and Radagast promised to watch over Luna.

It wasn't until the morning when the group was preparing to set out that Harry finally managed to find Frodo. The members of the Fellowship stood at the gate as Elrond gave his heartfelt farewell speech. Harry glided pass the enraptured audience and went to lean against one of the pillars at the exit, ignoring the pointed look he was receiving from the grey wizard, who was the only one to spot him yet.

When Gandalf called for the ring bearer, Frodo turned around to lead the party out of the elven city and finally saw the young wizard.

"Harry!" the hobbit yelled out in excitement. He ran towards the wizard, only to stop as he remembered why he was probably there. "Have you come to… to say goodbye?"

"Actually," Harry stated professionally, "I was wondering if you had an extra opening in your merry band; if so, I be honored to accompany you."

Frodo grinned. "Of course!"

Elrond, however, seemed hesitant to accept this sudden change. "You are planning to join the Fellowship? Then, the participants would equal ten, rather than nine."

"Well, then just consider me an…. independent wizarding consulting associate hired for convenience. Really, you can pay me and everything- in fact I insist; I don't have any money." Everyone (rudely) disregarded his (completely serious) request and Elrond, though still uneasy, raised no more objections.

"This is awesome!" Pippin claimed, "Now there is another to balance out the complete lack of humor this gang is inflicted with. We can tell stories and set up pranks during the nights- none of you heard that- and you can show us magic tricks- I didn't know you were a wizard; where's your staff- and… Harry, what is that around your neck?"

Looking down, Harry saw that Manny had finally decided to make an appearance, most likely under the impression that they were still with the Ents, and was lazily circling his shoulders. **Mmm, must have dozed off there. Did the trees make peace, and have Radagast and Miss Shelter Provider worked things out? Oh, who are these guys- whoops.**

"That would be my snake; his name is Manny and he likes to enjoy warm rocks on a summer's evening."

"Oh, ok… nothing wrong with that I guess."

The rest of the Fellowship sighed and walked out of the gate to begin their adventure, deciding it was best to ignore the two for now.

First Person POV- Unidentified Viewpoint

Oh, but the headaches you have caused me; not even the first three who dared to defy me inspired so many late nights. I have places to be and there is paper work to be done, yet you prove a great distraction without even being aware of it.

I throw you a bone, and you do your very best to spite me at every turn. You think,_ well, if he says I will play a critical role in the crowning of kings, then I obviously must hide in a forest for a decade! Oh, he brought me my most beloved pet back after I let her die for me? I know; I will just mock him and name my other slimy companion a butchered form of his esteemed title! _So ungrateful… But it is ok; you kept yourself safe and out of the way, using humor as a coping mechanism.

Yet, the moment I really try to help you, try to save you the pain of which Fate has so completely failed at shielding you, her _precious_ chosen one, from, you decide that you have grown wings and can fly above my advice. I showed you the ruin this realm will face, the suffering of a slow destruction which will eventually only leave an empty husk, the suffering that your own kind was lucky enough to avoid- it was all over in one bang for them- and you proceed to run in anyway, eager to embrace this pain like a long lost brother.

Rest assured my master; if you enjoyed what I grew to be in your world, then you are going too absolutely adore me here. Blood will be shed and fire will rain down upon the hopes of all; it is only your end that eludes me, while all of the others present themselves clear before my eyes. You are now destined to at least feel the burn due to your choices, but I can't see if you have the strength to put out the flames permanently. As I have grown to hold a, very reluctant, fondness for you, I do hope you are more successful in this endeavor than the last one you undertook. I would hate to have to stage another relocation for you…

* * *

><p>End Author's Note: So, this is a fairly un-cliffhangery ending for me. I usually try to make the chapters stop at a fairly intense time so that it motivates me to write the next update quickly, but this just felt right.<p>

Also, do you guys want to officially meet Mandos? Then stay tuned for the next update (it will be an interlude again)! Spoiler: he is **nothing** like Manny.


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